


Find me in the woods

by xxawalkinwonderlandxx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Except she makes a deal with Bellamy too, F/M, She makes deals for firstborns, The witch in the woods, age difference? sort of?, clarke is a witch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxawalkinwonderlandxx/pseuds/xxawalkinwonderlandxx
Summary: Clarke is the witch that lives in the woods outside of the village. Everyone knows of her. The twisted witch in the woods who will make a deal with you for your first born child. Except, one day, a mother comes with her son and a baby in her arms and asks her to take her daughter, who is obviously not her first child. But, she takes the little girl anyway and her brother is always right there with her. Clarke never thought he would come to mean so much to her.Prompt: You are a witch who offers couples deals in return for their first born child. You run an orphanage full of children freed from their would-be parent's irresponsible enough to make a deal with a witch in the woods
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 60
Kudos: 223





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, guess who did a one-shot when they should have been studying? Me! :D but I'm not sorry. This story isn't conventional, to say the least. There's an age gap, but at the first moment Bellamy is eighteen, so there's that, but also Clarke has watched him grow up with her children. It sounds weird, I know, so if you think it might be uncomfortable for you, then you don't have to read! (Obviously lol) Maybe I'm just overthinking this? Anywho, I'll do a synopsis in the end notes if you want to read that first!
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> A tumblr post that came really close to capturing what I had in mind when writing this story: [thestrawberrynight](https://thestrawberrynight.tumblr.com/post/190629606991/imagine-being-a-green-witch-who-lives-in-the)

Clarke sits in the old hand-carved rocking chair on her porch mending a cloak as the sunlight dances across the ground, coming and going with the movements of the clouds. It’s been a calm day today, seeing as most of the children have decided that they’re just going to lie around all day and not do much. She let them go to the creek the day before, so it makes sense that they’re tired. She can hear the sound of a couple of them moving around the bedroom above her head, and she makes a mental note of the fact that she’s going to have to make another bedroom now that the two boys are getting older.

Just as she’s finishing up her last stitch, the hairs on the back of her neck stand, and she does, too. _Someone’s coming_. She wraps the cloak around her arm and picks up her needles and thread and heads into the house. Everyone is sprawled out on the floor in the living room, all absorbed in their own things, but Serena looks up when she enters.

“Someone’s coming, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are.” Clarke hands off her cloak to the girl and pulls the hood of hers up. “Remember to stay inside and do not let anyone see you. I’ll be back soon.”

“We know how it works.” Elijah says from his spot in the arm chair. “I can’t wait to meet our new little brother.”

“Who says it’ll be a boy?” Raven says. “It may be a girl.”

“We have too many of those already.” Monty teases from the floor.

“Alright, no fighting while I’m gone.” With one last look to the children in the room, Clarke turns and heads back out her front door.

Over the years, she’s worn a deep path in the woods that leads from the old hollow tree where she usually meets the parents to her house, but it can usually be fixed with a nurturing spell. So, she waves her hand and new foliage begins to grow behind her. While she walks, she thinks about some of the times she’s been here. There’s Raven, a brown-haired girl with earthy eyes whose mother didn’t want to have to take care of her. It broke Clarke’s heart, but the girl has a better life with her. Then she thinks of Elijah and the way his father nearly threw him at her feet almost two decades ago, saying he was too small to do the work that would be expected of him. The father didn’t know that Elijah would grow to be one of the biggest boys she had ever taken care of.

When the hollow tree comes into view, Clarke is faced with not parents, but a mother and her son, and a baby cradled in her arms. _Strange_. The deal is that she only takes first-borns, but she’s not about to turn away a child that might need her. It would not be the first time that parents have given up their girls, and she knows it won’t be the last.

As she nears, Clarke tugs her hood over her head further and walks into the mother’s line of sight. She can hear the mother’s rapid breathing, and the way the baby gurgles softly as her mother rocks her. Usually, Clarke would be able to figure out what the parents, or in this case parent, wants before they speak, but she’s not able to this time. _Very strange_. When she comes to a stop about six feet away from them, it’s the mother who steps forward, her daughter still cradled to her chest.

“What is it you seek?” Clarke’s voice is lower than what it would usually be, but that’s what comes with the role.

“My daughter,” the mother stammers, “can you—can you take care of her?”

Clarke’s hooded eyes flick over to the little boy. He looks about six, maybe seven, and his hair is black and curly with a smattering of freckles all over his face. He does not look happy. “I only take first born children, and it seems yours is already too old.”

“No, please,” the mother steps forward again, “you have to take her.”

Clarke tilts her head to the side. “And why must I?”

“Because, if he—” the mother chokes back a sob, and Clarke’s heart clenches. “If he finds her, then she won’t be safe.”

“If who finds her?”

“Her father,” the mother whispers. Again, it’s not the first time that girls have been given up in favor of boys, but this family already has a boy. “Please.” Tears slip down the mother’s face.

Decision made, Clarke straightens and draws back her hood, gazing at the woman. “Why not just ask for me to be rid of him instead of offering your child to me?”

“I’m afraid my son and I would not be able to survive if I do. My husband wanted a boy, and if he comes home and finds that it’s a girl, then he will kill her.”

“He already has a son.”

“He is not my father.” Clarke raises an eyebrow at the little boy. His hands are clenched at his sides, and there seems to be a permanent scowl on his face as he looks at her. “Don’t call me his son.”

 _I guess that explains it_. Clarke turns back to the mother then looks down at the child in her arms. She can see chestnut brown hair peeking around the cloth that the child is wrapped in, much like her mother’s. “Very well,” Clarke says finally. “I will take the child. What is it you want in return?”

“I want nothing. Only your word that you will take care of her.”

“I always take care of the children.” Clarke steps forward, but finds her path blocked by the little boy.

“I want to be able to see her,” he says determinedly.

“You are not the one making the deal, boy.” Clarke walks around him, and waits as the mother presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead and hugs her close one last time.

“Her name is Octavia.” The mother holds the baby out to her, and Clarke takes her.

“Hi, Octavia.” She smiles down at the infant, and the baby blinks up at her with wide, green eyes.

“I also have a bag of her things.” The mother slides off a pack that’s on her back and hands it to Clarke. “A few clothes, some milk, and one of my shirts.”

Clarke blinks a couple of times. “Thank you.” She’s never had parents willingly give over things to help take care of their child, but she’s also never taken a child under these circumstances. Normally, she would tell the parents that this concludes their deal and that whatever they wished for would be given to them, but she finds herself hesitating now. This mother obviously loves her child, surely she can’t just leave without offering her _something_ in return. Clarke turns towards the little boy who seems like he’s trying very hard to not cry, but he’s failing.

“You wish to see your sister again?” The boy straightens, throwing back his shoulders and lifting his chin as he looks at her, nodding. “Then, I will make you a deal. If you can find my house, you will be allowed to come see her whenever you want. She will not be able to leave, but you will be able to see how she is growing and tell your mother. Do you accept?”

“Bellamy—” the mother begins.

“Yes, I accept.” The little boy’s voice is firm, and it draws a little smile onto Clarke’s face.

“Very well. You may start looking tomorrow.” Clarke turns back to the mother who is crying even more.

“She’ll be safe?”

“All of them always are.” Clarke cradles the baby towards her as she pulls her hood back over her head. “The deal is done.”

With a snap of her fingers, Clarke and the child, Octavia, are on her porch, and the little girl reaches up and grabs a strand of her hair. Clarke smiles, but it’s a sad smile as she thinks about the mother and the anguished look on her face. When she began collecting children, it was so she could save those who would otherwise grow up in an unloving household. Afterall, who offers up the children their supposed to love for vanity and greed? Some even admitted only having the child so they _could_ deal with her.

Sighing, Clarke heads back into her house and all of her children gather around her. There’s cooing and giggles, whispers of welcome and how much Octavia is already loved. Usually, times like these are meant to be happy, since it means that the child is going to be taken care of when they otherwise wouldn’t, but this moment is bitter-sweet. Clarke knows that this child would have been taken care of by her mother, with a head-strong brother to watch out for her, but it’s been ruined because of her father.

When dinnertime comes, Serena offers to feed the child, just as she has with the other ones ever since Clarke deemed her old enough. When Clarke’s time comes, it will be Serena who takes over the dealing of children, giving them the home that they deserve. As the girl is looking through the packed bag for the milk, Clarke hears a gasp and turns from the stove to look at her.

“What is it?”

Silently, Serena stands and hands her a folded up piece of paper. Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together as she takes it, but when she unfolds it, she realizes that it’s a picture, and there a scrap of paper sitting inside of it. _For her to remember me by – Aurora_. Clarke gazes at the picture. It’s of the mother, Aurora, Octavia, and Bellamy. She looks at the child who is sucking on Serena’s finger, then folds the picture back up and slips it into her apron.

“Get her fed, then we’ll put her in her new room.”

As everyone sits down for dinner, Clarke looks at all of them. Some are almost grown, and will be able to venture away from here if they choose, all having learned some of the ways of her magic. Others are growing far too fast for her liking, it’s not like there’s anything she can do about it. They’re her children, but it’s hard for it to be seen that way when she looks like she’s their age. She quit aging when she was eighteen, but for the first few decades or so she altered her appearance when she made deals, but she’s long done away with that.

Everyone is there when Octavia is laid into her new crib, and Elijah even offers to take care of her during the night should she start crying. It’s nothing new, but something about everything that’s happened today causes tears to spring to Clarke’s eyes, but she blinks them away, nodding silently before heading to her own room for the night. She couldn’t imagine having to give up her children, even if they aren’t biologically hers, but just the thought causes a pain to spear through her chest. As she falls asleep that night, she hopes that Octavia’s brother will be able to find the house.

Now, _hoping_ that the boy will find her house and _helping_ him find her house are two very different things. She’s placed so many spells and enchantments on her house to keep anyone who is not a part of her family from finding it, so she knows that there is a very good chance that the boy will not succeed. Not unless he has some sort of magical ability that she did not pick up when she met him.

As the sun climbs higher in the sky, Clarke finds herself wanting to go for a walk. At first, she’s not entirely sure _where_ she’s walking to, at least, that’s what she tells herself, but she knows that her feet are leading her towards the hollow tree. The path she walked the day before has disappeared, and she runs her hands over the newly formed leaves and bushes. _I have to gather supplies soon_. Before long, the tree rises before her, and Clarke stops, drawing a symbol in front of her face then pulling back her hood. If she’s to watch the boy, she can’t have him seeing her.

She’s not waiting long when a mess of black curls appears over the tall grass, and the little boy makes his way into the clearing. He has a bag slung over his shoulder, and there is a small walking stick in his hand, despite him not needing it. _He’s a determined little boy_. Bellamy looks around the opening, narrowing his eyes at things Clarke can’t see. He takes a step in one direction, then backwards, then in another direction, and then backwards again. It’s clear he doesn’t know where to go, but Clarke doesn’t want to show him where to start. She wants to see if he’ll figure it out.

The same thing happens for hours, until the sun beings to touch the horizon and there’s the sound of the village bells sounding in the distance. Bellamy’s head swivels around the clearing again as he looks, but when it’s clear that he won’t find what he’s looking for, his head droops and his stick falls to the ground as he turns and heads back the way he came. _Don’t be discouraged, boy_ , Clarke thinks, _just pay closer attention_. Bellamy stops walking and looks around, but his eyes still drift past where she’s standing. Clarke can hear him sigh as he turns back and begins his trek home.

The same thing happens for the next few weeks but, after a month of trying, Bellamy finally starts down the path that Clarke walks. He doesn’t get very far until it’s time for him to return home, but Clarke smiles when he pulls out a blue cloth and ties it around a low limb, then turns and ties another one closer to the clearing. _Smart_. She watches him head back through the other side of the woods, and she waves her hand in the air, causing a little firefly to appear.

“Make sure he gets home safely,” she whispers, and then the firefly is gone.

Two months to the day, Clarke is sitting on her porch feeding Octavia when she hears twigs snap in the distance. When she looks, Bellamy emerges from the bushes with leaves and twigs in his hair, and a few cuts on his face, but he smiles when he sees her. He runs up the stairs and stands before her, his eyes lighting up when he sees his little sister.

“Can I hold her?”

“A deal is a deal.” Clarke smiles as she hands Octavia back to her older brother, then she stands and motions for him to follow her inside. The boy hesitates at first, but she assumes that the sound of the children laughing inside is what finally pulls him in.

When the door shuts behind them, the voices grow louder, and Monty and Jasper jump over the railing of the stairs before darting down the hall. “Boys! What did I tell you about jumping like that?”

The two of them stop in their tracks and turn around, ducking their heads. “That we’ll fall through the floor,” they say in unison.

“And what will happen if you fall through the floor?”

“No more dessert.”

“So?”

“We won’t do it anymore, we promise.”

“Alright, now, I want the two of you to meet someone. This is Bellamy, Octavia’s brother.”

Monty and Jasper’s heads pop up as they gape at the other boy. He’s about their age, just as he’s about Miller’s age, and Murphy’s. The others in the living room seem to have heard her announcement as well, because Elijah and Serena come skidding out into the hallway, shocked.

“Her brother?” Elijah asks.

“Yes, her brother.” Clarke gives Elijah a look that says, _we’ll talk later_ , then she goes around and makes introductions with everyone, calling Raven down, too. “I made him a deal that if he could find the house then he would be able to see his sister, and he found it.”

Serena raises her eyebrows. “Impressive. Are we sure he’s not a witch, too?”

“I haven’t been told that I am,” Bellamy says, gently rocking his sister. “I don’t have any warts.” He looks up at Clarke. “Do you have warts?”

That draws a few giggles out of the others, but Clarke ignores them, focusing instead on her oldest daughter. “Close your eyes, Serena,” Clarke says, and the girl does as she’s told. Clarke moves Bellamy until he’s standing in front of the girl. “Now, what can you feel?”

Serena holds her hands out in front of her, and even though Bellamy’s eyes widen, he stays where he is. “He’s not magical.”

“But?”

“But, he’s got a strong soul.” Serena opens her eyes and looks down at the little boy. “Octavia is lucky to have a brother like you.”

“Thanks.” The boy looks down at his little sister, then up at Clarke. “Can I stay for a while?”

“Of course. But I’m sure your mother will expect you home by sundown.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, turning back to Octavia, “she will.”

For his first time there, Bellamy seems incapable of leaving his sister’s side for more time than it takes to go to the bathroom. While she sleeps in her crib, he’s beside her on the floor, reading a book that he had in his bag. When she’s awake, he plays with her in the living room while he talks to everyone else. Clarke gives them space, not wanting to seem like she’s eavesdropping or trying to crowd them, but the voices carry in her house.

“Whose your parents?” Bellamy asks.

“Clarke is my mom,” Jasper answers. “She’s all of ours mom.”

“But who are your real parents?”

“We don’t know,” says Monty.

“Don’t you want to?”

“Not really. No.”

The conversation grows quiet for a while until Murphy brings up the creek and asks if Bellamy has ever been. After that, the conversation flows more freely and it brings a smile to Clarke’s face. It’s nice hearing her children talk with someone else who is their age but also not considered one of their siblings. If she could, she’d send her children to school within the village, but if anyone knew whose children they were, they’d be shunned. _It should be the parents that are shunned_.

As the sun begins to sink in the sky, Clarke gets to work preparing dinner and sets aside a container for Bellamy and his mom, should they want any. Then, before long, Bellamy appears in the kitchen and Clarke turns to look at him.

“I think I need to go home.”

“Yes, I think so, too.” She picks up the food she’s wrapped up and holds it out to him. “You’ll be hungry when you get home, and there’s enough for your mother as well.”

“Thank you.” Bellamy takes it, then Clarke walks him to the front door, but not without him waving goodbye to everyone and promising to see them soon. When they’re outside, Bellamy walks down the steps before looking back at her. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

“If you’d like.” The little boy grins. Clarke waves her hand in the air, and a firefly appears in front of him.

“You’re the one who always sent the firelfies?”

Clarke winks. “Have a safe journey home.” She turns and walks back into the house, only to find all of her children looking out of the window.

“Is he really coming back tomorrow?” Murphy asks.

“Yeah, is he?”

“I told him he could, so, I guess we’ll see. Now, come on. Dinner is ready.” She ushers all of them to the table and they dig in, chatting excitedly about having someone else to adventure with. The scene makes Clarke smile, and she lays down that night, she’s glad that she made the deal.

This is how everything goes for a long time. Bellamy appears nearly every day always asking to see his sister, but after the first couple of months, he asks to see everyone. And their excitement for whenever he shows up never dwindles. In the beginning, Bellamy always sticks close to his sister, not wanting to venture far from her, but as time goes on and his sister gets bigger, he begins to bring her with them. As long as Elijah or Serena accompany them.

And, as with her children, she watches Bellamy grow up alongside them. His black curly hair gets wilder and wilder as he grows, no amount of brushing on his mother’s part can tame it, and he grows into a strong young man, just as Clarke and Serena thought he would. On some days, he shows up with cuts and bruises but a smile on his face and a gleam in his eye that makes Clarke want to roll her eyes as she bandages him and cleans him up. _Young and ready to fight the world_.

As he gets older, he also starts helping her around the house as well. He cooks dinner, picks up after Charlotte and Madi, and, on some occasions, even washes the dishes. Which is something Clarke has to get used to, because even her children don’t voluntarily wash the dishes or cook. But, she does get used to it. And it’s nice. They talk together more, and they joke more, it’s _nice_. Everything seems to be going fine until there’s a point where he doesn’t come at all.

Now, it’s not unusual that he would be gone for a week or so, but he would usually tell them that he wouldn’t be by. He would at least tell his sister. Octavia waits up for him every night that week, until Clarke fixes her a cup of tea and lays her in her bed, hoping that Bellamy will appear the next day. His absence seems to have an affect on everyone, even Clarke. Though, she wishes it wouldn’t.

It’s a month before he appears again and, when he does, he’s in the worst state Clarke has ever seen him in. There’s a cut on his top lip, and scratches on the side of his face. There’s an obvious handprint ringing his throat, and his right hand has been bandaged to the point of being immobile. Clarke gasps when she sees him and, to her surprise, he hugs her. Burying his face into her neck.

“Bellamy, what happened? Everyone’s been so worried.”

“I got into some trouble,” he mumbles, “but I’m okay. Can I see Octavia?”

“Of course.” She keeps ahold of his good arm as she guides him into the house, and Octavia starts crying as soon as she sees him.

“I thought you were gone,” she sobs, and Bellamy holds onto her like she’s his only lifeline.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he jokes, but Clarke can see the strain around his eyes as he says it. Everyone else crowds around him, too, welcoming him back and saying how he can never scare them like that again. He takes it all, smiling when he’s supposed to and laughing in the right places, but Clarke can’t let it go on when she knows that there’s something happening.

“What’s wrong?”

Bellamy looks towards her, a pained look in his eyes. Whatever he’s about to say, Clarke knows that she’s not going to like it. _And especially not Octavia_. “I’ve been called to duty.”

There’s startled gasps throughout the room, Octavia wraps her brother up in another hug. “Tell them you can’t go.”

“I have to,” he murmurs.

“No, you don’t!” Octavia pulls back. “You can’t go!”

“O,” Bellamy sighs and kneels before her. “I have to go. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll come back. You know that, right? I’ll always come back.” Octavia starts crying harder as she wraps her arms around her brother’s neck, and the sight sends a pain through Clarke’s chest.

“How long will you be gone?” Miller asks, and Bellamy looks at him over his sister’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. However long the war lasts, I suppose.”

 _That could be years_. A murmur breaks out among the group, and Clarke turns away, heading towards the kitchen. She knows what war is like, and if any of her children were to be called to war, she doesn’t know how she would handle it. She wonders how Aurora is doing. She doesn’t want Bellamy going to war either, but it’s different with him. He’s not her kid, and he’s not her friend necessarily, but…she can’t put her finger on it. She reaches up and wipes away a couple of tears before they can get very far, then gets back to what she was doing.

She pulls out a pitcher and waves her hand over it, watching as it fills with water. Then, she goes to pull out cups for everyone, but before she can reach them, a hand comes from behind her and grabs them for her. Silently, Clarke takes them from Bellamy and moves to set them on the tray, then pulls out a plate and waves her hand over it, conjuring sandwiches.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and Clarke glances at him.

“You’re the one going to fight for a country that shouldn’t be going to war in the first place and you’re asking _me_ if I’m okay?” Clarke grumbles as she turns to grab some napkins.

“You can’t even look at me.”

At that, Clarke turns around and lets out a deep breath. “I’m okay. I just…I don’t like the idea of you going off to war. I can’t imagine how your mother must be feeling.”

“I’m going to come back,” he says, and Clarke looks up at him. “Like I told Octavia, I’ll always come back.”

Clarke walks towards him, smiling softly. “I’ve known many to say those exact words, Bellamy,” she takes his right hand in both of hers then gently starts unwrapping them. “Very few of them ever do.”

“You sound as if you doubt me.” She can’t see his face, since she’s keeping an eye on her movements, but she can feel his breath fan out over her hair.

“I have never doubted you. I may have questioned some of your actions, but never doubted you. Take a deep breath.” When she hears him inhale, she presses on his hand and he grunts. “There. We can’t send you off with a broken hand, now can we?”

“Hopefully when I come back there won’t be anything for you to fix.” He holds his hand up in front of his face and clenches it a few times then shakes it out at his side. “Thank you.”

“I’ve already fixed at least half a dozen of your bones, what’s a few more?” She smiles, and is taken back when he does the same. He’s taller than her now, so she has to look up at him in order to see his face properly. She just never realized how handsome he was.

“Will I be welcomed back once it’s over?”

Clarke picks up the pitcher of water then snaps her fingers and the tray of food lifts off the table and hovers in the air. “Depends on if you have problems finding the house,” she teases, and Bellamy’s deep chuckle follows her as she makes her way down the hall.

That night, everyone crowds in the living room, not willing to separate on Bellamy’s last night with them. Octavia sticks close to her brother’s side, just as everyone seems content with being a little closer together. They all stay up late into the night, laughing, telling jokes, sharing stories, and eating a lot more desserts than they probably should, but the time calls for it.

Eventually, though, everyone begins to doze off and Bellamy carries his little sister to bed, tucking her in and giving her a kiss on the head, murmuring his promise of coming back home. Clarke follows him outside, just like she has all of the times before, but this is different. She feels like something is being ripped away from her, and she wants it to go away, but it’s not going to. She knows it’s not. This time, he doesn’t tell her bye from the bottom of the steps, but they stand on the porch together, looking up at the sky.

“I’m going to miss this place.”

“You say that as if you are not coming back.”

“I will come back. I promise.”

“Promises are heavy burdens when you do not know if you’ll be able to keep them.” Clarke turns to look at him then. Wanting to catalog every single detail on his face. “I have something for you.” She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a small, metal pendant attached to a leather string.

“A necklace?”

“A talisman.” She holds it up and Bellamy bends his head so she can place it on him. “It will help you while you’re gone and if you ever need strength, or anything that is, it will give it to you. All you need to do is rub your finger over it three times.”

“What if I need you?”

Clarke smiles softly. “I’ll always be with you.”

They look at each other for a moment, and everything seems to stand still. Clarke is aware of the breeze blowing through the trees and the way it makes the leaves sound, and the voices of the nocturnal animals that have come to lull her to sleep over the years. She’s aware of all it, but not as aware as she is of the way his black curls float slightly when the wind passes through them, and the way his arms feel when they wrap around her again. Like before, he buries his face into her neck, but his hand comes up and tangles in her hair. She finds herself holding onto him like she’s afraid that if she lets him go, then he’ll disappear.

She doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but when they pull apart, he doesn’t let go of her fully. They stand there looking at each other, still wrapped in each other’s arms as his gaze drifts down to her lips. Clarke’s breath catches. _Is he going to kiss me?_ It’s been a very long time since she’s been this close to anyone, so to say she’s nervous would be an understatement. Instead of doing what she thinks he’s going to do, Bellamy closes his eyes and presses his forehead against hers, and Clarke doesn’t know if she should be relieved or scream.

“I’m going to come back to you.”

“I’ll still be the wicked witch in the woods,” she says, and it draws a slight laugh from him. She brings her hand up and cups the side of his face, then presses a kiss to his cheek. He inhales a breath, but before Clarke can get lost in the moment again, she steps back and waves her hand in the air. A colony of fireflies appear this time, and Bellamy smiles as he walks down the stairs towards them.

“Be careful.”

He looks back at her. “I always am.” And with that, he’s gone.

The first few days he’s gone, a sadness hangs in the house. One Clarke can’t just magic away. It’s deep within her soul, everyone’s soul, and it’s not going to go away for a long time. Then, they days turn to weeks, and the weeks turn to months, and everyone eventually learns how to go about their lives again. It’s not easy, and Clarke finds herself looking towards the direction of the village more days than naught, hoping to hear the sound of the return bells.

As the moths grow into years, her children grow older and some decide to make lives for themselves within the village, just as some of the others have. They get new papers, some of them choose new names, and they send her gifts and letters every now and then, but the longer they’re away from her house, the more their memory of it fades. Then, eventually, they can no longer find it. _It’s easier this way_ , she tells herself. _It’s always easier this way_. However, some of them decide to stay and help her with the new children.

Serena is still there with her, along with Octavia, Monty, Jasper, Murphy, Raven, and Miller. This is the most children she’s ever had stay at her house long after they’ve been told they can start their own lives, but she has a feeling that she knows why. Octavia grows into a head-strong young woman, much like her brother, which doesn’t surprise Clarke at all. Her features sharpen and her eyes become more piercing, and her ability to mix potions and feel magic grows substantially. Everyone always questioned Bellamy for how he was able to find the house, but no one looked at Octavia or the strength she possessed. But Clarke isn’t surprised.

As time goes on, the same thing happens. Clarke’s children grow older while she remains the same, and some of them come home after sneaking into the village with stories of the people they’ve met or, in Monty’s case, the girl. However, the number of parents that come to bargain their children dwindles over the years, and Clarke wonders if they believe that she no longer lives there or if they’ve finally realized that they shouldn’t give up their children. But, Clarke doesn’t question it too much. There have been times when the number of deals has decreased dramatically, but it always tends to rise again.

Also over time, Clarke finds herself not thinking about Bellamy as much. In the beginning, when he first left, he occupied her thoughts almost all of the time. But, even though he doesn’t occupy her waking thoughts, he’s always in her dreams. There, she’s able to talk to him, and see him. Sometimes he looks how he did the night he left, other times he looks older with stubble lining his jaw and more lines around his eyes than she remembers. But he’s there, and they talk for what feels like hours about nothing and everything all at once. Even though there may be days where she feels like she may never see him again, she always does. Even if it doesn’t last.

On a cool, autumn day while Clarke is tending to her garden beside her house, she feels something. It’s not the feeling that she experiences when one of her children show up, no, but a pull in her chest that causes her to straighten. As she looks around the woods, she can’t see anything, but she knew that she wouldn’t. She puts down her gardening tool and pulls off her gloves. The feeling is expanding, and soon Clarke’s feet are pulling her down a familiar path. She breaks out into a run.

As she moves, the pull begins to ebb away, but there’s something else replacing it. There are birds that fly over head in the same direction she’s going, and she can hear the sound of other animals following her as well. She runs down the path of the hollow tree, and just as the opening comes into view, so does the man she thought she’d never see again. And _man_ is certainly what he is now.

She pushes herself towards him, and he drops the duffle bag that’s slung over one of his shoulders when he sees her. He’s all broad shoulders and golden skin, with the same mess of black, curly hair that’s been wild all it’s life. Gone is the skinny boy who left her on her porch that night, and in his place is the man she always knew he’d be. Strong, and broad, and handsome.

She launches herself at him when she gets close enough, and he wraps both of his arms around her, picking her up and spinning them around. She buries her face into him, and the way he hugs her steals her breath away. It’s both the same and different at the same time. It’s the same because it’s _him_ and he’s alive, and he’s here, but he’s also taller and muscular and not the Bellamy she remembers.

They stay holding onto each other for a long time after he sets her down, and when they pull apart, her breath is knocked out of her lungs. The cut that was on his lip has left a scar, and his jawline and cheekbones are more defined now. And his brown eyes, ones she’s seen in her dreams more times than she can count, are focused on her, and she feels like he’s staring into her soul. She has to look away from the intensity of it, and focuses instead on the talisman that is visible through the open buttons of his shirt.

“You came back.” She looks back up at him and he smiles.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” He murmurs, running his hand through her hair.

“Yes, you did.” Clarke’s hold tightens on his shoulders, and he pulls her in for another hug.

As they walk back to the house, Bellamy offers her his arm and she takes it, not wanting to let him go. He looks around as they go, and tells her that everything seems the same as the day he left. She teases and tells him that that’s probably a good thing, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to find them again. He asks her how everyone is doing, and who all stayed after he was gone. She tells him that everyone is still here, but that they’ve gone camping and should be back that tonight.

When they enter the house, Clarke watches Bellamy take all of it in. There are pictures upon pictures lining the walls, as they always have, and his eyes find the most recent one of his sister and the rest of his friends.

“They’ve grown,” he murmurs, and Clarke squeezes his arm.

“So have you.”

She motions for him to drop his bag anywhere while she gets to work fixing him something to eat. It’s been so long, she doesn’t know what kind of food he likes anymore, but she makes him chicken and broth with rice, and he digs in immediately.

“You do not know how terrible soldier food is,” he mumbles around a particularly large piece of chicken. “It’s terrible.”

“So are soldier’s table manners,” Clarke raises an eyebrow and Bellamy stops chewing, a tint of blush appearing on his cheekbones.

“My apologies.”

“No, it’s okay. After five years of terrible food, it’s understandable,” she assures him, and he smiles.

“I hope so.”

He opts for seconds, and then thirds, and after that he asks Clarke if she’d like a drink. When she raises her eyebrows, he grins as he pulls a bottle of amber liquid out of his bag and holds it up to her. She’s drank alcohol before, but it’s been a very long time. Afterall, she can’t very well drink when she has to wake up in the middle of the night to change diapers, and she doesn’t sit down and drink with her children either. When she goes to get two glasses out of the cabinet, Bellamy is there grabbing them for her.

“Good to know everything seems to still be in the same place,” he says as he pours each of them a drink.

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Clarke takes the glass he holds out to her and smells it. “I must admit, it’s been a while since I’ve drank anything like this.”

“So, does that mean you’re a lightweight?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. H _e’s handsome_. Clarke smirks at him.

“I have magic, of course I’m not a lightweight.”

“Then, I guess we’ll just have to see.” Bellamy grabs the bottle of liquor then guides her towards the living room, opting to sit on the floor in front of the fire. “I believe we have five years to catch up on.”

“Well, I must admit, nothing has really changed. You, on the other hand, have a lot to tell me.”

“I want to hear your story first,” he says as he leans back against the armchair. “Please.”

 _Well, how can I say no?_ “Okay,” Clarke takes a sip of her drink, grimacing as it goes down her throat. “I can’t believe people subject themselves to this.”

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” Bellamy sits up and reaches for her drink, but she pulls it away.

“I didn’t say that I did not want it.”

He grins. “Fair enough.”

“Okay, so, my story…” She begins with telling him how well the children have turned out, and how Octavia is exceptional when it comes to her magic studies, which makes him smile. She also tells him about how the number of parents dealing away their babies has dwindled, and while she hopes it stays that way, she also doesn’t like the idea of children growing up in houses with parents who do not want them. That causes her to go on a rant, and Bellamy reaches out and clasps her hand in his, running his thumb over her fingers.

In turn, she asks him his story, and he throws back the drink he’s been sipping on, then pours another. They’re both about five drinks in now, and Clarke can tell that he’s smiling a little wider and laughing a little louder, and it makes her do the same.

“Well, the day after I left here I had to leave, and it was hell. I was homesick, worrying about my mother, and Octavia, and you—everyone,” he amends. “The days were long and full of hard labor and every day when I thought that I would be pushed to my breaking point, I thought of this place, and of you and I would feel better. The talisman helped like you said, and it was something I needed. It was something we all needed, then.” He reaches up and runs his finger over the metal once before letting it drop back against his chest.

“Then when we finally moved out, I was terrified. I didn’t know what the next day would bring me, or even that night, but, just as I fell asleep that night, I dreamed I was back here with all of you, and I felt better.” He looks at her and smiles softly, but Clarke can see the sadness in it. Just like the night he told them he was leaving. “I never want to see war again. It’s harsh, and it’s cruel, and I lost so many good men to wounds and infections…” he trails off, staring into the fire. “You have no idea how much I wished I could come back. Those things…they change you.”

 _I know_.

“What?”

Clarke starts, tearing her eyes away from the fire to look at him. “I’ve been to war before, Bellamy,” she says softly. “And I’m sorry you had to experience it.”

“But you’re so—”

“Young?” She guesses.

“Caring,” he finishes. “I do not see how someone could go through that and come out as you have.”

“When you’re immortal, things are different. I’ve seen more things than many would be able to comprehend, and I’ve done things that I’m not proud of.” Clarke looks down at her glass, swirling the liquid around a bit. “Who we are and who we need to be to survive, especially during a war, are two very different things.”

Bellamy says nothing for a while, and Clarke doesn’t either. It’s nice, just getting to be in his company again, and she resents the fact that she’s going to have to tell him bye when he chooses to leave to go home. _Unless he wants to stay here_. She doesn’t entertain that idea for long, mostly because she doesn’t have a spare room and it takes her a bit to make one. _But I’m sure one of the guys wouldn’t mind sharing one…_

“Where are you?”

His voice brings her out of her head, and Clarke turns to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“You disappeared on me.”

“I’m sorry. I just got caught up in thinking, is all.” She tips her head back and finishes off her drink, then moves closer to him so she can pour herself another one. She’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s watching her, but she tries not to think about it.

“I missed you, Clarke,” he murmurs, and she brings her gaze up to meet his.

“I missed you, too.” He sits up straighter, and the action causes them to be closer together. She was reaching over him to grab the bottle, now she’s nearly laying on top of him.

“All of the time I’ve been gone, I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t think about you every day.” Clarke’s breath catches, and suddenly the two of them are on her porch again that one summer night. “And every day I wished I could be back here with you.”

“Bellamy—”

“Please, let me finish. I’ve thought about this for a long time.” His hand comes up to run through his hair, and Clarke notices the subtle way it’s shaking.

“Okay.” She smiles a little as she puts the bottle down and moves from over him, but she stays as close to him as she can.

“Okay.” He lets out a quick breath and smiles nervously. “Whenever I pictured myself happy, after the war was over, it was always here. I wanted to see my sister again, I wanted to see everyone again, but I also wanted to see you as much as I wanted to see Octavia.” He brings his eyes up to hers and Clarke finds herself incapable of moving. “That night, on your porch, you told me that you would always be with me, and that thought is what got me through so many things I hope to forget. I dreamed about you almost every night, Clarke. And every night, I got to talk to you and hear your voice, and, god, you don’t know how much that meant to me. I often found myself wondering if you were the one causing it to happen, or if my mind just wanted to see you that badly…but I know I’ve been gone for a long time, and maybe that’s a good thing, but there was something I wanted to do that night, but I didn’t, and I’d like to do it now.”

“What is it?” Clarke asks, finding that it’s a little hard for her to talk right now. _He had the same dreams as me?_ She didn’t think about it at the time, but maybe she did cause the dreams to happen.

“May I kiss you?”

She hoped that would be what he asked, but hoping and it actually happening are two very different things. Clarke’s eyes drift down to his lips, and she watches as he smiles at her, then she looks back up at him, nodding her head. Bellamy’s hands come up to cradle her face, and their eyes lock for a second before their lips meet. He smells like the outdoors, and he tastes like liquor, but there’s something there that it unmistakably _him_ , that consumes her. He’s not the same person she said goodbye to that night on the porch, the guy she knew is still there, mixed in to the person she’s kissing now.

When they pull apart, she’s breathing harder despite not having done anything that just kiss each other, but he is, too. His brown eyes look nearly black with only the fire light dancing across his skin, and Clarke thinks he’s never looked more beautiful. His thumbs caress her cheekbones once, twice, then his lips are back on hers and he’s pulling her into his lap. This is something she’s thought about more times than she cares to admit, and may have even dreamed out on a few occasions, but she never thought she would get it.

When he looks at her, he beams, and a giggle escapes her lips before she can catch it. “I never thought I’d get to do that,” he admits.

“Well, now that it has, what do you think?” Her fingers are playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he hums, running a hand up and down her back.

“I think that I would like to do it again,” he smiles, and Clarke does the same as she leans down to capture him in another kiss.

Not long after, everyone else returns home, all surprised to see that Clarke is drinking but even more surprised to see Bellamy. The two of them don’t let on to the fact that they’ve kissed, since there’s still a lot that they need to figure out, but they can do that now. Octavia throws herself onto her brother and he laughs, deep and loud as he pulls her into a bone crushing hug. After everyone has said hi, Bellamy finds her gaze through the crowd and smiles at her. _He’s home_. It’s a strange feeling, since she thought she would never get to see him again, but here he is. And, just maybe, the dreams that they’ve shared over the past five years will become a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Synopsis: Clarke takes Octavia when her mother explains why she can't keep her and, since she can tell that Aurora and Bellamy are obviously upset with having to do this, Clarke offers Bellamy a deal. If he can find her house, then he can see Octavia whenever he wants. Eventually, he does, and he grows up alongside Clarke's adopted children. Except, things are different with him. He talks to her, and they laugh, and they just seem to enjoy each other's company until, one day, he's sent off to war. For five years, she dreams of him. Of getting to talk to him and see him, and then one day he's back, and Clarke is taken back by how much he's changed. He's 23 now, and he looks exactly how he did when she dreamed of him. That night, while they're waiting for everyone to come back, they talk, and they drink, and then they kiss. They definitely have some things that they need to figure out, but they can do that now. The end :)
> 
> And they live happily ever after :) Anyone catch the Practical Magic reference? ;)
> 
> Soo....how did you like it? Or did you hate it? Any thoughts?? As I said, this is a one shot I did last night and I finished around 12:00am lol but I always love hearing from all of you!!
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream flashbacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back ;)

Falling asleep in the first few weeks always ends with Clarke waking up to an aching heart. The first night she dreams of him, Bellamy is exactly how he looks the day he left, but without the strain around his eyes or the weight on his shoulders. He looks happy, and when he sees her, his smile widens. They’re standing in a clearing in the middle of the woods, and the sun is shining down on Bellamy’s black hair, showing the different shades of it.

“Lovely day,” he says as she reaches him, and Clarke hums as she looks around.

“Yes, it is.” There’s also a slight breeze that makes the heat more bearable. 

“What do you say to a walk?”

“What about the children?”

“Everyone else can handle them. The girls and Atom are not _that_ much of a handful.” He grins when he says it, because he knows that they are exactly that. A handful.

“Well, if you’re willing to take responsibility for my house burning down when we return, I do not see any reason to say no,” she teases, and Bellamy grins as he begins down a path through the trees.

It’s become a habit for him to accompany her whenever she goes into the woods, usually to gather supplies. So much so, that Serena does not even get up whenever Clarke says that she’s going out, because the girl knows that it will be Bellamy who follows her whenever she walks out of the door. Clarke isn’t sure when this habit formed, exactly, but it feels as if this is how it’s always been. The two of them picking their way through tall grass and fallen trees trying to gather everything Clarke needs before sunset.

They walk for a while, not talking or anything, just content to be in each other’s company. With her children, she’s always making sure to point things out to them and asking them questions to make sure that they don’t forget their lessons, but she doesn’t need to do that with Bellamy. He doesn’t learn magic like her kids. _Not that he needs to_ , Clarke thinks, _because he already has enough magic of his own_. It’s not what someone would think when they hear the term _magic_ , but there’s always been something about Bellamy that always separated him from everyone else.

“What do you think we should do for Octavia’s birthday?” Bellamy asks as he holds up a low branch for her to pass under. 

“She told me she doesn't want anything, but I do not think I believe her.”

“You know O, she expects people to figure it out without her having to say anything.” Bellamy smirks. “I was thinking maybe a night at the creek. She thinks turning twelve is a big deal since it means she’ll only be one year away from being a teenager.”

 _Octavia is already twelve_. Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together as she looks at Bellamy. He doesn’t seem bothered by what he said, which is even more strange. He’s always the one that remembers everyone’s birthdays, even before Clarke can realize that they’re coming up, so him getting his sister’s birthday wrong doesn’t make sense. 

“Come, I think I see a lake.” Bellamy holds his hand out for her and Clarke takes it as he guides her onto a sandy beach. 

_What was I worried about?_ Try as she might, Clarke can’t remember what it was that had her confused, and all of her thoughts drift away as she stands on the edge of the water. It’s a really nice day to go for a swim, and a part of her wishes that she would have brought the children while another part is glad she didn’t. It’s rare that she gets a lot of time to herself, always has been, but she can afford a few moments now. 

Clarke inhales deeply as she kicks off her shoes and wiggles her toes in the sand. It doesn’t look like normal sand, though. It looks almost iridescent, and it’s something she’s never seen before. As she thinks about it, she’s never seen this lake before even though she’s wandered through most of the woods in the past decades. When she looks over at Bellamy, he’s in the process of rolling up the ends of his trousers, oblivious to her questioning gaze. 

“Are you getting into the water?” She asks.

“Possibly. Are you?”

“Possibly,” Clarke says, and Bellamy smirks. 

“Do I have to throw you in?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Clarke stares at him, wide-eyed, and the grin on his face tells her that he would dare. “Bellamy Blake if you take one step towards me, I will make you bald.”

Bellamy’s mouth drops open. “You wouldn’t.”

“Want to try me?” She challenges, and Bellamy’s mouth closes as he looks at her. _Is he actually considering it?_ Time stretches out before them, and Clarke waits to see what he’ll do. The sun dances across his skin, and Clarke idly wonders if his freckles will be darker after their time out here. 

“I think I’ll try it another time,” he says finally, then he walks into the water until it reaches his ankles. “Though you really should join me.”

“Maybe later.” Clarke waves her hand over the sand and a blanket appears. No matter how much time she spends in the sun, her skin never darkens. Though, not for a lack of trying. She sits down on the blanket and closes her eyes, letting the sun wash over her. The sounds blend together as she lets her mind go blank, and she must doze off for a bit because she doesn’t remember anything happening from the time she closes her eyes until she opens them again.

When she looks beside her, Bellamy is settling on the blanket, too, and his hair is damp and his shirt is nowhere to be seen. The sunlight shines on the drops of water clinging to his skin, and Clarke is torn between needing to look away and wanting to conjure her charcoal so she can keep this forever. The thought that he’s the same age she was when she stopped aging pops into her mind, and Clarke pushes it away. Like her children, he’ll continue to age and, one day, there won’t be a reason for him to come around anymore. Especially not when Octavia decides to leave. 

Clarke turns her head away, suddenly overwhelmed by emotions that decided to creep up on her. _Why am I so worried? Octavia isn’t even twelve yet_. Clarke takes a deep breath, but then another thought comes to mind. _Wait, she is twelve...isn’t she?_

“Are you okay?” 

Clarke turns her attention back to Bellamy, and his shirt is on again. She hadn’t even felt him move. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not sure. Just a feeling,” he says, then he braces his arms behind his head and lays back onto the blanket, tilting his face towards the light. Clarke watches him, wondering what’s going on. He must sense that she’s doing so, because his head lulls to the side as he looks at her. “Are you going to lay down, too?”

“I think we should get back to the house,” Clarke says slowly. “I think I’ve been gone too long.”

To her surprise, Bellamy reaches out and grabs her hand, pulling her down beside him. “We haven’t even been gone for an hour. It’s okay.” 

Clarke hesitates for a moment before letting herself sink into the blanket, and Bellamy’s hand never leaves hers as she does. When she peeks at him through her eyelashes, his eyes are closed again and he looks as if he’s sleeping. Clarke takes a silent deep breath and closes her eyes, too, willing herself to relax. The sun warms her skin, and makes patterns dance across her eyelids as she tries to clear her mind. And that’s how they stay.

Time ceases to be a concept while they lay together, side by side on the blanket. It’s a nice feeling, and one Clarke hasn’t experienced in what feels like an eternity. She feels like she’s been wrapped in a warm blanket while she lays there, and the sound of Bellamy’s soft, even breaths is enough to lull her to sleep. When she opens her eyes again she looks at him, but he’s already looking at her.

“I think I’ll go into the water now.”

Bellamy’s answering smile makes her heart soar. “I think that’s a good idea.” He stands and pulls her up after him, not letting her hand go as he walks them towards the water. Clarke walks into the water enough for it to reach the bottom of her calves, and that’s when Bellamy lets her hand go, so he can move further out into the water. The wind picks up and his hair is a whirlwind around his head. When he looks back at her, he smiles.

“You’re absolutely stunning. You know that, don’t you?”

A sound breaks through the calm air, and Clarke jumps at it, uneasiness spreading throughout her veins, but Bellamy stays exactly where he is. “Did you hear that?” She asks, but Bellamy says nothing. “Bellamy?” The sound comes again and Clarke jerks awake in her bed, disoriented and panting. Her sheets are wrapped around her like a vice and damp from sweat. 

Outside, a summer storm rages on and another round of thunder sounds, shaking the house a little. _It was a dream_. When the thought hits her, she grabs at her chest, wanting to pull out the pain that’s spreading through it. _It was all a dream_. A sob sounds from her throat before she can even realize that she’s crying, and she clamps her other hand over her mouth to stifle it. Lightning flashes outside her window, illuminating the drawings that she’s hung up on her walls over the years, and through the blurriness of her tears, she sees one of Bellamy. He’s sleep on the couch with Octavia curled up beside him, and Clarke thought it was such an adorable sight she couldn’t help but draw it. The way he looks in the picture is how he looked on the beach. Calm and serene.

Sniffling, Clarke throws herself back onto her pillows and looks up at her dark ceiling. _It was only a dream_. The reality is that he’s gone. Gone to fight in a war hundreds of miles away for a country that does not even know his name. _It’s not right_. _It’s not fair_. Throughout time, leaders have wanted men to fight for them and for their causes without so much as a thought to how it would affect them. Without thinking about the families these people are forced to leave behind. To fight in a war that most of them do not believe in. 

Tears still rolling down her cheeks, Clarke turns over and pulls a pillow towards her chest and buries her face into it. _I’m going to come back to you_ , his voice echoes in her mind, and Clarke screws her eyes shut tighter, hoping that he’s right.

  
  


After that night, despite Clarke’s best efforts, she dreams about Bellamy more and more, and each time she does, she wakes up feeling like there’s a hole inside her chest and a piece of her heart missing. After a while, she even tries to keep herself from falling asleep, but it never works. Eventually, when she does, the dreams seem even more real and it hurts more whenever she wakes up and realizes that, once again, none of it was real. 

Her dreams of Bellamy are usually the same, though. They usually start with just the two of them going off together and it leads to them talking about nothing in particular. Sometimes it’s the weather, sometimes it’s what Clarke’s life was like when she was a child, other times it’s him asking her how she came to caring for children. They all seem so _real_ , and they talk about things that they never talked about in person but, in person, they were never alone for so long. Other dreams have the rest of her children in them, and they’re all laughing and having fun, and it’s like he’s never left. Those dreams are the ones she likes the most, even if the only reason is because they don’t leave her feeling as empty.

One night when she falls asleep, she’s greeted with a Bellamy that she doesn’t recognize. This Bellamy is slightly taller than the one she remembers, and there’s stubble lining his jawline that she’s never seen before. But, like all the other times she sees him, he smiles at her. That beautiful, heartbreaking smile she’s come to expect every time she closes her eyes.

“There you are,” he says.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Something like that.” Bellamy holds out his hand and Clarke takes it, wondering where he’s going to lead her to. “We’re late.”

“Late for what?”

“You’ll see.” He turns and smiles at her again, and Clarke’s heart races. 

The remaining sunlight disappears quickly, and Clarke waves her hand, causing a cluster of fireflies to dance around them. The woods seem to go on forever, and the further Bellamy goes, the darker they become until Clarke has to gather more and more fireflies to light the way. Eventually, though, they enter a clearing where the night sky is void of any clouds and the stars wink down at them.

“Bellamy, it’s beautiful,” Clarke whispers as she looks up at the sky. 

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Since one of her hands is still clasped in his, Clarke’s free hand flutters at her side, wishing she had her paints in front of her. Everything seems so vibrant and when she looks at Bellamy, his skin almost looks like it’s glowing. “What are we doing here?”

“Did you think that I would forget your birthday?” He asks, and a lump forms in Clarke’s throat. _My birthday._ None of her kids have known her birthday, so she hasn’t celebrated her birthday in a very, very long time. 

“We don’t celebrate my birthday, Bellamy,” she says softly. Not wondering how it is he knew that it was her birthday.

“Which is something I plan to change.” Bellamy pulls gently on her hand, and Clarke follows after him. 

Bellamy leads her up a hill and when they get to the top of it, there’s already a blanket laid out with a basket sitting on it, and Clarke stops short. _A picnic?_ Bellamy stops, too, and turns to look at her, concerned. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Clarke’s voice comes out rough, and she clears her throat. “I’m fine.”

“You do not seem fine.” Bellamy walks towards her then, and Clarke has to lift her head up to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just—” Clarke looks over at the waiting blanket and then back to him. “I’ve never had someone surprise me for my birthday.”

His hand comes up and tucks a strand of hair that’s fallen loose behind her ear. “As I said, something I plan to change.” He looks at her for a moment longer until he guides her towards the blanket, and she sits down on it, tucking her legs under her. 

She gets lost in the moment. In the way Bellamy’s smile lights up the nighttime, and the way his fingers brush over hers when they both reach for the same thing. Lost in his laugh that carries throughout the open field with no one around to hear it but her. Any sense of time floats away, and all Clarke can think about is how happy she is. She follows Bellamy’s gaze up to the sky, and a shooting star sails across it, making her smile.

“They say if you make a wish on a shooting star, it will come true,” Bellamy murmurs, still looking up at the sky. 

“What would you wish for?”

“To be back home with you.” 

Clarke’s breath catches as she turns to look at him, and the pain that’s been kept at bay this entire time comes washing over her in waves. _It’s not real_ . The realization is like a weight, weighing down her shoulders and threatening to crush her. _He’s not real_.

“Hey,” Bellamy goes to reach out for her, but she moves back and she can see the pain in his face when she does.

“This isn’t real,” she whispers, not trusting herself to talk any louder. “It’s never real.” Tears slip down her face, but she doesn’t try to push them away. 

“Clarke—”

“That’s how you knew it was my birthday,” she realizes. 

“You told me your birthday.” Bellamy’s eyebrows knit together.

“No, I didn’t.” _Did I?_

“Yes, you did. You just don’t remember.” He reaches for her again, too quick for her to try and turn away from him. His hand wraps around her wrist, and she blinks at it. _It certainly feels real_ . When she looks up at him, she can make out all of the individual freckles on his face, and the color of his eyes, and the way his bottom eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks. _He certainly feels real_. “Don’t go.”

His words are like a spear in her heart, and more tears fall as her hand reaches up to touch him, but she pulls it back before she can. “I will always be with you, Bellamy,” she murmurs, and just as he leans closer to her, Clarke starts awake.

There’s tears still streaming down her face, and her heart feels as if it’s about to beat out of her chest, but she knows how to calm herself down now. She breathes in slowly through her nose and holds it, then exhales it through her mouth. _It’s always just a dream_ , she reminds herself. Except, this one wasn’t like the other ones. This one felt _real_. More real than any of the others ever had, and that’s what hurts the most. Because he was _there_ and he was touching her and looking at her in a way she wishes she could see in person. When she lays back on her pillows, she waves her hand in the air and a small firefly dances in front of her face. _Please, please, come back to me_.

  
  


After that, Clarke doesn’t try to fight her dreams anymore, and she also begins to realize that whenever she sees Bellamy, it’s a dream. But it’s not something she would assume if he really were to be there in person, since there’s always _something_ that doesn’t seem normal whenever she dreams. The plants glow, or he does, or the colors are just a little too bright to be real. She always figures it out, and after awhile she becomes used to it. 

After months of waking up and crying, and having a pain that threatens to consume her, she learns how to work through it. It doesn’t hurt as much as time goes on, but she would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt at all. There seems to be a permanent hole in her heart, an ache that will never go away. Of course it won’t go away. Something _was_ ripped from her that night, and she doesn’t know if she’ll ever get it back. 

Three years after Bellamy left, Clarke falls into a dream with a heaviness surrounding her, and the Bellamy that greets her is different than the one she remembers, but his smile...that’s his smile. It always has been. In all of her dreams, his smile never changes. He’s even taller now, and she has to tilt her head up to look at him. 

He’s wearing a light linen shirt that’s untied at the top, and his hands are stuffed in the pockets of his dark pants. As she stands before him, she realizes how much older he looks. _I wonder if this is what he looks like now_. The talisman she gave him is visible through the fabric, laying against his skin, and she wishes she could touch it. He’s quit using it as much over the years, but she wishes he would start using it more. At least then she know he’s there. 

His fingers come to rest under her chin, and he tilts her head up so she’s looking at his eyes. The brown eyes she’s looked into countless times over the years, both in reality and here. 

“You’re sad,” he says softly, and Clarke can’t find the words to answer him. _Because you’re not here._ “Won’t you talk to me?” 

“I'm afraid I do not have anything to talk about,” she whispers. 

“Does that mean you don’t know why you’re sad?”

“No...yes...I don’t know.” Clarke sighs and closes her eyes. Willing her mind to stop for just a second. But it can’t, because he’s in front of her and he’s touching her and it’s hard to remind herself that this is just a dream when that happens. 

“Clarke,” he murmurs, and the tone of his voice causes her to open her eyes. 

He’s looking at her with such intensity, that she’s sure she would melt if he really were in front of her. _My soldier._ Tears well in her eyes, and Clarke reaches up to run her fingers through his curly hair, smiling softly at the way they curl around her. 

“I miss you, Bell.” 

“I’m right here,” his voice is low.

“No, you’re not.”

Bellamy’s fingers press lightly on her chin. “Does this not feel real to you?” Before Clarke can answer, his other hand comes up and grabs hers, moving it to press against his chest above his heart. It’s steady beneath her fingertips, and his skin is warm. “It feels real to me.” 

This is the first time she’s experienced him trying to convince her that this is real. She wants it to be. God knows how badly she wants it to be true, but it’s not. He’s asked her to not leave before on more than one occasion, but he’s never responded so intensely. _I really do miss him, don’t I?_ Clarke looks up into his eyes, mesmerized by all of the emotions she can see moving through his dark eyes. 

His hand moves from atop hers and wraps around her waist, pulling her closer while the hand that’s been holding her chin moves to cup the side of her face. His fingers are rough. Rougher than they were when he left despite having spent years working with his hands outside. The warmth of his skin against hers sends electricity humming throughout her body as she looks up at him. _He does feel real_. Which is why she shouldn’t have let it go this far.

“Bellamy…” she trails off, her eyes sliding down to his lips.

Without warning, Bellamy presses his lips to hers. Clarke is stunned for a moment, not entirely sure what’s happening or how she should react, but the way he presses her closer to him and the softness of his lips pulls her into it. It feels as real as anything else she’s ever experienced, and she knows that it will never leave her mind now. Her hand fists in his shirt as he deepens the kiss, and the reason why she was sad leaves her mind as she gets wrapped up in him. The rest of the world melts away until it feels like it’s only the two of them.

When they finally pull apart, Clarke’s eyes are wide as she looks at him. Kissing Bellamy is something she’s tried not to think about ever since he left, but here she is. She’ll never be able to forget this. They look at each other for a few moments until his arm wraps around her, and Clarke buries her face into his neck. He smells how she remembers him. Of the outdoors and smoke and something she’s never been able to put a name to. Something that just screams Bellamy Blake.

That night, her dream of Bellamy leaves her waking up with his name on her lips and a heart that feels like it’s been simultaneously shattered and pieced back together by the same man at the same time. But it’s something she knows how to handle now. She’s sure that having this many dreams about someone can’t be healthy, but no amount of magic in the world can help her with it. She’s tried making her own charms and potions, but nothing ever works. It seems that her subconscious has taken her belief that there is something about Bellamy quite literally, and now it won’t let him go. Not that she wants it to, though.

Clarke lays in bed until the sunlight of a new day begins peeking through her curtains, then she slides from under her covers and pulls on her robe before starting towards the kitchen to make breakfast. _Three years and the start of another day_. There’s no news on how the war is going, or when it will end. _If_ it will end. But as she is starting on the pancakes, she feels something. A wave of tiredness washes over her and she grabs the corner of the counter to steady herself, taking a few breaths until the room stops spinning. _The talisman_. Over the years, Bellamy’s use of it has lessened, but sometimes she’ll feel like this and she’s reminded that he’s there, and he’s alive. It’s not much, but at least it’s real.

* * *

During his first few weeks in the army, he dreamed of nothing. He would go to bed exhausted and wake up with an ache in his bones and a tiredness he could never seem to shake. But, it wasn’t from all of the work he had to do. No. The tiredness was something different, and something that he knew wouldn’t just go away. He missed his home, and his family, and being apart from them hurt. Telling his mom bye had been something he never thought himself capable of doing, and then Octavia clinging to him begging him not to go...it was terrible. Telling everyone bye was just as worse, too. Then, there was Clarke. 

She was the one that he was most worried about, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. Octavia would be taken care of while he was gone, and his mother’s tailoring business was doing well so she didn’t have to rely too much on her husband, but Clarke...Clarke was always the one who took care of people, and even though he tried to take some of the weight off her shoulders, he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. So, Bellamy’s thoughts were plagued with memories and wishes and the first time he dreams only of her, it’s both beautiful and terrifying. 

He’s walking up a cliff and he can see someone standing at the edge of it. Not someone, he knows, but Clarke. Her hair whips around her and she’s wearing a dress that looks like it’s been made from the finest material he’s ever seen. As he walks towards her, he can taste the salt in the air and smell the impending rain, but she doesn’t seem to mind any of it. When he’s closer, she turns around to look at him, and she smiles.

“You came,” she says as she walks towards him. When she stops in front of him, Bellamy’s mesmerized by her appearance. The fabric looks soft, and it holds onto her perfectly.

“I’ll always come when you call.” _I always have_.

“Come, I have something to show you.” She grabs his hand and starts back towards the edge of the cliff, but all Bellamy can think about is how beautiful she is and that she’s holding his hand. _But we always hold hands. Don’t we?_ She stops just on the edge, and Bellamy itches to bring her back a little, but he knows that she knows what she’s doing. “Do you see the ship?”

Bellamy follows her finger to where she’s pointing, but sees nothing. “No, I do not.”

“Here.” Clarke pulls him closer, and he can smell the scent of lavender that seems to cling to her. “Can you see it now?”

Bellamy squints, but still sees nothing. _Where’s the ship?_ His eyes scan the horizon, and just when he’s about to open his mouth and tell her that he can’t see anything, there’s a shimmer off in the distance. Bellamy’s eyes are drawn to it, and as he continues to watch it, a ship begins to take form. It’s very large, even from so far away, and the sails are covered in blue and white. They look familiar, but he can’t figure out why.

“Do you see it now?” Clarke tilts her head up when she asks, and Bellamy can feel her breath fan out across his cheek.

“Yes, I see it.” He moves in closer to her, to where his head nearly rests on hers. “What is it?”

“It’s going to war,” she murmurs. “It shouldn’t be.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because many people die in war. Good people. All for a country too blinded to see the pain and carnage they leave in their wake.”

“Sometimes war is what needs to be done,” he says lowly. 

“Did your officers tell you that?”

And to that, Bellamy doesn’t have an answer. They stay there, watching the ship sailing along the waters, and Bellamy finds himself not knowing how much time has passed. Clarke is still beside him, and her hand is still in his, but he doesn’t know how long they’ve been there. The ship seems to be in the same place as it was, but too much time has passed for it still be there. _Hasn’t it?_

Then, more ships begin to take form. They’re not as big as the first ship that appeared, but they’re still quite large. They sail with the same speed and intensity as the first ship, and when he blinks, the first ship is further away now. The smaller ships never stop coming.

“Why did you want to show me this?” He asks, looking down at her, but she keeps her eyes on the boats. The setting sun casts a warm glow on her ivory skin, and her blue eyes look like they’re on fire. _She really is beautiful_.

“They look beautiful, don’t they?”

Bellamy looks back at them. “Yes, I suppose they do.”

“Will they still look beautiful when there’s blood staining their decks and dead men, good men, being thrown over their railings?”

“Clarke—”

“Will they be beautiful when they return home with your body in a wooden box and their condolences?” Her words make it feel as if he’s been hit in the chest. 

“I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t say no.”

“Everyone has a choice, Bellamy.” She turns to look at him, and the warmth he’s always seen in her eyes is gone. “You made yours.” When Clarke turns back towards the ships, she holds out her hand and red light sparks between her fingers before there’s a loud explosion.

Bellamy jumps and turns towards the sound, only to see the large ship in the front, or what remains of the large ship, being scattered across the ocean waters. “Clarke!” He tries to pull her attention, but she ignores him and points her hand towards the other ships. “Clarke, stop! You’ll kill them!”

She ignores him still, and the fleet of ships becomes a burning pile on the water. Horrified, Bellamy begins to back down the cliff, wanting to take his eyes off the destruction in front of him but not being able to. When they’re out of his line of sight, his gaze moves to Clarke. She looks so beautiful, and calm, but the orange sky behind her looks as if it’s on fire now. She never moves and her gaze never leaves him, even when he finds himself dropping to his knees as he thinks about all of the people on those ships.

“You made a promise to me,” she says, and her voice carries all the way to him without her having to yell. “You told me you would come back to me.”

“And I will.” His voice sounds rough.

“But how can you keep a promise when your life is not in your hands?”

“Because I will _always_ come back to you.”

He can’t be sure, but it looks like there’s a smile on her lips. Or maybe just the corners tilted up. Either way, the look she gives him is sad and full of longing, and he wishes he could make it go away. As he moves to get up, the world shakes under him, and he crouches low.

“Clarke!” She doesn’t move. The shaking comes again, and when he tries to run to her, a large wave crests over the cliff, swallowing both of them.

Bellamy starts awake, cold and wet as the ship plows through the rough waters, and Bellamy has to look around to orient himself. Water has started to seep into their sleeping quarters, which is probably what woke him up, but he finds himself incapable of moving from his hammock as he tries to think about the dream he just had.

There’s men shouting, and Bellamy pulls himself out of his head and hauls himself out of his hammock and towards the deck. Everyone is running back and forth, and there’s a storm raging that blurs his vision and stings his eyes, but he blinks through it. There are dozens of ships around them, all carrying the same white and blue sails that were in his dream. Heart racing, he turns to his right and sees a large cliff in the distance, much like the one he had just been standing on. 

The sight causes his heart to stick in his throat as he looks at it, and when he thinks he sees her blonde hair, when he blinks it’s gone. _Clarke_. He runs his hand over his face as he is pushed in a direction by one of the other men, and he starts pulling at some ropes, but he can’t bring himself to stop looking at the cliff. 

As he works, he tries to push his dream out of his mind, but he doesn’t want to forget how Clarke looked in it. He heard stories about the wicked witch in the woods who would deal for first borns and then eat them, but he always knew the truth. She was a witch, yes, but she wasn’t wicked, and she didn’t eat the children either. She loved them and cared for them and treated them like her own. He got into a lot of fights over those stories. 

When he needs to take a break, Bellamy leans against the railing of the ship and takes the talisman between his fingers. Despite it being pure metal, it practically weighs nothing, and he flips it over to look at it. The front is smooth and shiny, and the back has a griffin etched into it. The sight of it makes him smile, and he runs his fingers over it three times then closes his eyes. A few breaths, he feels like there’s something being breathed into him, and the ache in his muscles disappears as he stands again. 

_I will always be with you_ , her voice echoes in his mind, and Bellamy brings the talisman up and kisses the back of it. 

He’s going to go home to her. He’s going to see his family again. He knows he is.

He promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I never planned on doing a second chapter, at least not officially, but I did leave that possibility open when I finished chapter 1. I think I was just really nervous about posting this story which is why I didn't plan on writing more, but people asked so here it is! What do you think is up with the dreams? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I’m back :) I have a plan for this story, so it looks like there might be two more chapters!

Bellamy being back home lifts everyone’s spirits, but there’s an air of uncertainty that hangs between all of them. It’s been five years, and a lot has happened in those five years. Then there’s also the dreams. 

That night, everyone stays up well into the early hours of the morning, trying to catch up on five years of their lives. Bellamy mostly listens rather than telling his friends what he experienced while away, and Clarke knows why. Not only from what he told her before everyone else came home, but from the dreams, too. She can see the ghosts reflected in his eyes, and the slight strain around his eyes whenever he smiles. 

Eventually, though, everyone starts to drift off to sleep, with Octavia curled up next to her big brother, almost like she’s scared he won’t be there whenever she wakes up. Clarke takes her time gathering blankets and pillows so she can cover everyone up, and then fills a pitcher with water and grabs enough cups for everyone that will undoubtedly be thirsty in the morning. She’s had her kids come back from the village intoxicated, but she’s never drank with them before. But they’re not kids now. 

When she’s done, she looks over at Bellamy. He’s slumped over to where his head rests against his sisters, and Clarke can’t help but notice how young he still looks. _Like in my dreams._ She stands there for a moment, taking in the fact that he is, in fact, back, and that he kissed her, and that he’s going to stay. She thinks of the dreams and begins to wonder just how many they shared during the time he was gone, or if they both just ended up dreaming of one another with no connection at all. 

She doesn’t know what the truth is, and it’s going to eat away at her. She knows it is. Just like her thought that what if she _is_ the reason why they had the dreams and the dreams are the reason why he kissed her? Clarke shakes her head. _He was going to kiss me the night he left_ , she reminds herself. Sighing, Clarke runs a hand through her hair and turns around, heading towards the stairs and her room. It’s late, and now that everyone else is asleep, Clarke figures she should get some rest, too. 

As she lays down, Clarke thinks back on some of the dreams she had. Most of them seemed like just that—dreams. Nothing to suggest that Bellamy was sharing it with her. Except, she remembers the dream of when he first kissed her, and how real it felt. When she woke up the next morning and felt the talisman be used, she wrote it off as a coincidence. There was no reason for her to assume that it really was him that night but, now, she’s not so sure.

She turns onto her side and watches the moonlight dance across her walls and her floor. He left five years ago on a night like this, so maybe it’s only fitting that he came back the same way. Clarke can feel sleep trying to pull her under, and with how she feels, she’s not going to be able to fight it much longer. Even though he didn’t say it, Clarke could tell that Bellamy was exhausted. It wasn’t just in his eyes, or how he held himself, but she could feel it. 

Clarke closes her eyes, and sleep takes her away almost immediately. But, for the first time in five years, she dreams of nothing. 

  
  
  


The time between her closing her eyes and waking up leaves nothing behind, even though she feels more rested than she has in a very long time. Her children sleep most of the day away, only waking up when the sun is high in the sky and there’s only a few more hours of daylight left. Except Bellamy. He sleeps through the sunlight moving through the living room, and into the night as Clarke gets to work on his room with help from Octavia.

Serena had changed her mind in the five years that Bellamy was gone. Having met a man in the village one day and fell in love with him. She told Clarke that she wouldn’t leave if she did not want her to, but who would Clarke be to deny her a happy future? So, she let her go. But Serena made promises to visit any chance she could, and sent letters more often than naught. But Clarke didn’t want Serena to believe that she had to be tied to this place. 

“Clarke? Are you okay?” 

Octavia’s voice cuts through her thoughts and Clarke turns to look at her, smiling. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about Serena.”

“Has she sent any news lately?”

“No. I would have told you if she had.”

“I know,” Octavia walks over and places her hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Clarke smiles a little then turns back to the cleared out area next to the house. “Now, let's get started.” 

Making a new room always ends up taking Clarke a while to make and get right since if it’s not done correctly then it can fall down. But, between her and Octavia, she knows that they have it under control. Afterall, she’s built more rooms without anyone else’s help. As they work, the others take turns making food and bringing it out to them. The room isn’t quite attached to the house, but there’s a hallway that’s been created that only Bellamy’s room is attached to. Clarke begins to wonder if she’ll have to begin doing this for everyone else, but no one has brought it up.

When she and Octavia get inside, Madi and Charlotte are in the process of trying to see who can draw Bellamy the best, while Miller and Jasper conjure dust and feathers over him. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Clarke waves her hand and the two boys are moved backward a little. “He needs sleep.”

“Is ever going to wake up?” Madi looks up at her with big blue eyes, much like her own. 

“He hasn’t moved.” Charlotte looks up, too.

“Yes, he’ll wake up. He’s just exhausted and he needs rest. So, why don’t the two of you run along and make him welcome back cards or something.” The two girls jump up and run upstairs, laughing, then Clarke turns back to Miller and Jasper and raises an eyebrow at them. 

“We weren’t trying to be mean,” Jasper mumbles.

“We just wanted to see how asleep he was.”

“And I’m sure the two of you wouldn’t like it if someone did that to you. Now, why don’t you go help Octavia with getting his room prepared?”

The boys disappear and Clarke gets to work picking up the house from the night before. Now that everyone is grown, except for Charlotte and Madi, they’ve become better about picking up after themselves, but sometimes it begins to slip. But, she can’t blame them for it right now. And, by now, she’s so used to doing this that it’s a second nature.

The day goes by quietly for the most part, so that none of them wake up Bellamy who is still sleeping on the couch. When the night comes, they eat their meal in the dining room instead of piling up around the living room, as they’ve come accustomed to over the years, and then they all return to their beds that night. Except Octavia, who decides to sleep in the living room next to her brother. 

The following day goes by the same, and Bellamy does not wake once again. Madi and Charlotte take to asking whether or not he actually will wake up, but Clarke assures them that he will. She tells him that it’s the same as them going to the river and sleeping the following day away. That seems to calm them down enough, and they take it upon themselves to add more artwork to Bellamy’s room. It’s sweet, even if Clarke has some doubts about Bellamy actually wanting to stay _there_. 

That night, when everyone asleep in their rooms, even Octavia, Clarke sits in her room with her sketchbook propped open on her knees and doodles while waiting for her eyelids to begin to droop. As she begins to draw the view of the village from the treeline, she wills her mind to go blank. But, she can’t really do that. 

She thinks about how grown her kids are, most of them looking like they’re her age even though they’re in their early twenties, and wonders how long things will stay the way that they are. She thinks of Elijah and wonders what his life is like now. He made it a point to send her a small note that said he was not going off to the war, but that was the last she heard from him. She thinks of Serena again, and what her life must be like. She thinks about Monty and the girl he’s met in the village, but hasn’t gone to see for a while. Then, as usual, she thinks about Bellamy

The night he first left, he told her that hopefully she wouldn’t have to fix anything when he came back, and even though he was talking about physically fixing things, she knows the lasting effect war can have on people. The mark it left on her. The war was brutal, and it nearly wiped witches from existence, but Clarke knew it couldn’t get everyone. It didn’t get her. 

As she moves to add the bell to the top of the church tower, it feels like the breath is knocked out of her, and Clarke starts forward, grabbing her chest. A weight settles on her shoulders as she tries to drag in a breath, but it comes as more of a wheeze. The only thought in her mind is that something is happening with Bellamy. So, still running her hand over her chest, Clarke crawls out of bed and starts out of the door, making her way to the living room. 

With every step she takes, the weight becomes easier to manage, even if setting foot on the stairs causes her physical pain. When she finally reaches the bottom of them, she looks into the living room, seeing Bellamy on the floor in front of the fireplace. He doesn’t notice her, and Clarke stands there for a moment trying to get her breathing under control. The feeling is fading now, but it lasted longer than the other times. It felt heavier, too. 

When she can draw herself up to her full height, Clarke walks into the living room, and even though Bellamy doesn’t turn around to look at her, he moves over and pats the spot beside him. Clarke does as he asks and sits down, and he surprises her when his arm wraps around her and he kisses her temple. Even though they kissed, or ‘made-out’ as she has heard some of the others describe it, she isn’t entirely sure where they stand. She also wonders what’s wrong, but she’s not going to drill him for answers. With what she felt, she knows she’ll have to wait for him to tell her himself.

So, that’s how they stay. Bellamy’s arm around her and Clarke’s head resting on his shoulder as the firelight illuminates the room around them. It would be peaceful, if it wasn’t for the lingering feeling that something is _wrong_. She wishes she knew what it was.

“How did you know I was awake?” He asks, and Clarke threads her fingers with his.

“I didn’t,” she says carefully. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but she also knows that if she tells him that she felt whatever pain he was feeling whenever he used the talisman, then he would feel bad. 

“Why are you awake?”

“It’s a habit.” Bellamy hums at her response, but still says nothing. His hand begins to trace patterns on her bare arm, and Clarke finds herself leaning onto him more. “You’ve been sleeping for the past two days. How do you feel?”

“Better.” Bellamy’s fingers continue to move on her arm. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.” Clarke turns her head to look at him. 

“I’m worried that the others will not recognize the person I’ve become,” he whispers. “I remember telling the girls when they were younger that nightmares were only the things they were scared of when they were awake. That if they could slay their demons when they were awake then they would not be in their dreams. I used to believe that.”

“But now?”

Bellamy is silent for a moment, and Clarke can see the firelight reflected in his dark eyes. _Like the ghosts_. “Now, I see the faces of the people I’ve killed when I dream.” He takes a deep, shaking breath, and his hand stills on her arm. “When I woke up, I thought I was back on the battlefield. I could smell the fires, hear the screaming. It felt so _real_ , and I didn’t realize I was here until I stood up. What I did—what I am. I do not know if I can handle it. None of this seems real now.” He whispers the last part, and Clarke’s heart aches

“Bellamy,” Clarke turns and moves to her knees, but Bellamy’s arm stays wrapped around her. She reaches up and holds his face between her hands. “You’re not a bad person. You are a very good person who was put into a situation that he had no control over.” Bellamy moves his eyes from hers, but Clarke positions herself in his lap so he’s looking at her again. 

“War changes you, that is true, but when I look at you, I still see who you are. You are Bellamy Blake, and you can be an asshole, but you’re also loving, and kind, and you take care of everyone. Especially Octavia. You are still the same man I dreamed about almost every night for five years.” Bellamy sucks in a breath, and Clarke presses on. “We know who you are, Bellamy, and we know you’re not the same person you were when you left, we’re not the same either, but you still know us just as we know you.”

“Clarke—”

She moves her hands from his face and reaches down, grabbing his hand and placing it over her heart. “What does that feel like?”

“Your heartbeat,” he murmurs. 

“In one of the dreams, I told you that none of it was real, and you—”

“Took your hand and placed it over my heart,” he whispers, his eyes wide. 

“You told me that it was real. That it felt real. And in that moment, I knew who you were. Who you _are_. You cannot tell me that after all of the dreams that we’ve shared together that I do not know you.”

“How many have we shared?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke shakes her head, “but I have to believe that we shared more than we thought.”

Bellamy’s free hand pulls her closer and Clarke rests her forehead on his. “You’re lovely, you know that right?”

“You may have told me that once or twice during our nightly talks,” she whispers, and a small smile appears on his lips. “I’m going to help you through this. We all are.”

“I know.” He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

Clarke kisses him once more and she can feel him smile against her lips. “Of course.” They sit that way for a little while longer, just content to spend their time being close to one another. Then, she remembers something. “We have a surprise for you.”

She climbs off his lap and Bellamy watches her as she holds out her hand and pulls him up after her. “A surprise?”

“A surprise,” she smiles. Their fingers intertwine as Clarke leads the way down the main hallway and then takes a left and down the hall that leads to his room. 

When they reach the door, Clarke takes a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob and pushing the door open. The room is dark, so Clarke waves her hand and the candles in the room ignite, casting an orange glow in the newly-built room. She squeezes Bellamy’s hand then guides him in.

She can hear his intake of breath, and when she turns around his eyes are wide as he takes everything in. There’s a large wooden bedframe with a mattress in the center of the far wall, two matching nightstands, a dresser, a desk, and then a closet and his own bathroom. 

“Octavia helped me build it, and everyone else helped decorate.” Clarke motions to the drawings that Madi and Charlotte did that are now hanging above his desk. “I—well—I don’t know if you are planning on staying _here_ , but that is what everyone else believed, so while you were sleeping I decided we could build you your own room, but if you don’t want to—”

Bellamy cuts her off with a kiss, and all of the rambling she was doing and incoherent thoughts disappear from her mind. Of course, she wants him to stay here with her, with all of them, but she doesn’t want to force him to do something he might not want to do. Especially since they haven’t actually talked about it. Bellamy’s fingers thread in her hair, and Clarke places her hands on his chest, grabbing the material of his shirt. 

When they break apart, Clarke looks up at him. “What was that for?”

“To say thank you,” he smiles. “And to maybe stop you from rambling.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. “I ramble quite a lot.”

“Good to see some things have not changed then.” Bellamy leans forward and gives her another kiss, and it’s one that seems to leave her breathless when they pull apart. 

Looking into his eyes, Clarke marvels at how beautiful he looks. “Would you like to look around? I can make some tea.”

“Sounds wonderful.” His thumb rubs over her cheekbone and it sends a chill throughout her body.

“Okay.” She leans up on her tiptoes to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth and he smiles as his arm pulls her closer so he can kiss her properly. _We still have a lot to talk about_. He lets her go, but brings up her hand to kiss the back of it before she can walk out of the room. 

The tea doesn’t take long, and when she returns to his room, he’s sitting on his bed with a little black book in his hands. He looks up when she comes in and smiles, but the sadness from earlier is back, and it pulls at her heart. 

“What’s troubling you?” She asks as she puts the tray of tea down and gives him one of the little cups. 

“Will you sit with me?” 

“Of course.” Clarke picks up her cup of tea and settles beside him on the edge of the bed, tucking her legs under her. The book is open to one of the first pages, and she recognizes that it’s a journal. 

“I bought this the night I left. I tried to write as much as I could in it, but sometimes we never got a chance to even catch our breath let alone stop to write a letter.”

“A letter to your mother?”

“A letter to you. All of you.” Bellamy flips through the pages, and at the top of each one, Clarke can see a different person’s name. _Octavia. Jasper. Miller. Monty. Charlotte. Madi. Asshole_. Clarke snorts at Murphy’s nickname and she watches the corners of Bellamy’s mouth turn up. “I couldn’t send them, as you know, but it did not stop me from writing them.” As he goes, she watches the names fly by. _Octavia. Miller. Jasper and Monty. Madi and Charlotte. Murphy. Octavia. Octavia. Miller. Octavia. Murphy. Octavia. Octavia. Jasper. Monty. Octavia. Madi. Octavia. Charlotte. Clarke._

Her breath catches slightly when he stops on the page, and he seems to know _exactly_ what page her letter is on. She leans closer, wanting to look at the handwriting but also not wanting to read it in case he doesn’t want her to. 

“I tried to keep myself from writing you, but when I would wake up from the dreams and resent the fact that it wasn’t real, I knew I needed to act like I was really talking to you.” He moves the book in front of her, and she looks at him before taking it. “I’m not sure how many of the dreams we shared, but maybe we can figure it out.”

Clarke looks down at the little book in her hands, and her eyes roam over the first line. 

_For someone who makes sure to celebrate everyone else’s birthday, it makes me sad to think that we’ve never celebrated yours_. 

A lump forms in her throat and tears sting her eyes, but she blinks them away. 

_You only told me your birthday in a dream when I asked, but I suppose that’s my mind trying to make up for the things I wish I knew about you. When is your birthday, Clarke? You know mine. I dreamed that it was your birthday last night, and I brought you to the peak of one of the higher hills at home. I thought we were enjoying it together until you left, and then I woke up and realized that none of it was real._

_I meant what I said. Not celebrating your birthday is something I plan to change when I come home. And then we can celebrate all of the ones you haven’t._

Clarke smiles, a soft laugh escaping from her lips. “Celebrating all of the birthdays I’ve missed would take a long time.”

“How long?” 

Clarke bites at her bottom lip and looks back at the paper. She’s told him how old she is in her dreams, but she’s not sure it was one they shared. They talked about a lot during those dreams, but it seems that that dream wasn’t one of the ones he remembered.

“Too long,” she says softly.

“Is your birthday actually October 29th?” He asks next, and she nods. 

“Yes.” A small smile plays on her lips. “October 29th.” 

Bellamy smiles then, too. “I wrote down everything after the dreams. If you’d like to read the letters, then it’s yours to do so.”

“Could we read them together?” She asks, looking up at him, and the way he gazes at her makes her heart rate pick up. 

“I’d love to.” Bellamy shifts and moves to where he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, and Clarke moves to sit beside him. Being this close to him makes it hard to breathe, and she keeps thinking about what’s going to happen. It’s a strange mix of feeling normal and feeling like they’re walking a very fine line. Should anyone else see them…“Are you okay?” 

Clarke breaks her attention from the wall she’s staring at and glances at Bellamy. “I just got caught up in my head.” She looks back at the book in her hands, but she can still see Bellamy smile out of the corner of her eye.

“You do that a lot.” His lips press to her temple, and Clarke’s body hums at the feeling. She leans her head onto his shoulder as she looks back at the journal, but he moves and wraps his arm around her shoulders and she moves closer to him. 

That’s how they stay for the rest of the night. They go through every letter he wrote her, page by page, line by line, and they talk. They reach a dream that Clarke doesn’t remember, or one that Clarke knows happened between ones that shared, they talk about them. Sometimes the conversation shifts and they end up talking about something completely unrelated to the dreams, but Clarke doesn’t mind. Even though she’s spent five years talking to Bellamy, it’s different now that he’s actually here.

The more they talk, the more Clarke’s heart swells, and she wonders if, maybe, this is what it’s always going to be like. If he wants to stay. If he wants to stay with her. The thought that he might not is something she doesn’t want to think about, and when Bellamy pulls her into another conversation, she forgets it completely.

Clarke isn’t sure how long they talk, but after a while, her eyelids begin to droop and despite her best efforts to keep them open, she can’t. She’s vaguely aware of Bellamy shifting on the bed, and the light in the room disappears as Bellamy’s other arm comes to wrap around her. She nuzzles into his chest, and his fingers move to her hair, massaging her scalp.

“Goodnight, Clarke,” he murmurs, and she can feel his lips on the top of her head, but she’s too far gone to answer him. She drifts off to the feeling of his chest rising and falling, and the sound of his steady heartbeat under her ear.

_He’s finally home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm back!
> 
> I'm so sorry for not updating for so long, but I have chapter five already written out :)
> 
> I hope you can forgive me and I hope you enjoy it <3

Bellamy wakes up to the feeling of someone pressing into his side, and when he looks, Clarke is curled around him with her hand resting on his chest. _I thought I dreamed it_. He runs his hand over her side and she lets out a soft noise that makes his heart stutter. After so many years of being away from her and only being able to see her in his dreams, it almost doesn’t feel real that he has her in his arms right now. 

His stomach growls and he realizes just how hungry he is, but he doesn’t want to wake her up. So, doing the best he can, he begins to move from under her and at one point Clarke rolls over onto her other side and he’s able to pull his arm out completely. It almost pains him to walk away from her and how soft she looks, but his stomach screaming that it needs food propels him to the door.

Just as he walks out of his room, he catches sight of someone and when he looks, Miller is already looking at him. His friend’s eyes move from Bellamy to inside his room where Bellamy is sure he sees Clarke asleep in his bed, and Bellamy presses his lips together as he shuts the door as quietly as he can. When he reaches the end of the small hallway, he crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at Miller, but the other guy just shrugs.

“Not my place to say anything.”

Bellamy nods his head and looks towards the kitchen. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

The two of them make their way into the kitchen and they each get to work on different things. Bellamy hasn’t had an opportunity to actually cook over the past five years, but he’s cooked a little. Granted, it wasn’t the best food, as it could barely be considered _food_ , but it was enough to keep them going. 

“When did it start?”

Bellamy isn’t looking at him when Miller asks the question, so it takes him a second to realize what he asked, but when he does, he keeps his eyes on the eggs. He knows everyone will have to learn the truth at some point, so he might as well start now.

“I had feelings for her when I left. I even almost kissed her. I don’t know how they started, but one day it was like I woke up and realized how beautiful she was. Then, when I was gone, there were the dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“I dreamed of all of you, of this place. I dreamed of her. And they felt so _real_ and I would spend so long talking to her, only to wake up and realize it wasn’t real. Well, I thought it wasn’t real.” Miller doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue, and Bellamy moves the eggs around in the pan. “We learned last night that we shared most of our dreams over the past five years.” Bellamy moves the pan off the stove and turns to look at Miller. “I’m in love with her.”

His friend doesn’t say anything for what feels like a long time, and Bellamy can feel his heart beating in his ears. But, eventually, Miller nods his head. “Good.”

“You’re okay with it?”

The other guy looks at him. “Clarke has been here taking care of children by herself for decades. She takes all of us in and gives us a home and cares for us and teaches us, but she doesn’t have anyone who does that for her. Even before you left I could see how you tried to help her, which was more than any of us did, and when you left…” he shakes his head. “We were all sad. Heartbroken. But I have never seen her like that over anyone. So, if you love her, then I’m happy. For the both of you.”

Bellamy’s stunned. “Thank you.”

Miller nods his head and sets the food he’s prepared onto the table. “Of course. Though, I’m not sure how Octavia or the others will take it.”

Dread begins to fill a pit in Bellamy’s stomach. _I didn’t think about that._ The thing is, is that Clarke never treated Bellamy like one of her kids. Because he wasn’t. He had his own mom, and a stepdad, who he hated, but he never looked at Clarke and thought of her as a mother figure for him. Sure, she bandaged him up when he was younger, and sometimes he would listen from afar when she told stories to the babies, but there was a difference. He was seventeen when he first realized how beautiful Clarke was, and he was eighteen, the age she looks, when he left. 

“I guess it is weird. Isn’t it?”

Miller looks at him, his fork halfway to his mouth. “A little. And that’s saying something considering I grew up with the witch in the woods as my adoptive mother.”

They look at each other for a beat before they start laughing. All of the tension leaves Bellamy’s body, and for some reason, he can’t stop laughing and neither can Miller. If anyone were to walk in on them, they’d probably think that the two of them have gone crazy. For the rest of breakfast, the two of them don’t talk about much, but it’s nice just being around someone he knew before he left. Sure, he became friends with some of the men from his unit, but they couldn’t compare to the family he had left behind.

  
  
  


When Clarke wakes up, the first thing she realizes is that she’s alone in the bed. Of course, with Bellamy having slept for as long as he did once he got back, she’s not surprised that he’s up before her. Even though she’s usually up before anyone else. She stretches under the covers, then looks over at the nightstand. His journal is sitting on it, and Clarke can feel her heart swell. 

She pushes back the covers and rolls out of bed, wondering if Bellamy’s eaten anything yet. Sunlight is shining through the curtains, but it’s not high enough to tell her that she’s slept in. She makes her way to the door and slips out into the hallway, trying to close it as softly as possible, but when she turns around, she’s face to face with Murphy. 

He raises an eyebrow at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Murphy puts his hands in his pockets and continues to look at her, and Clarke crosses her arms over her chest.

“Hungry?” She doesn’t wait for him to respond, pushing past him and towards the kitchen, but she can hear him following behind her. 

Except, when she walks into the kitchen, she realizes that they’re not the only two up. Bellamy and Miller are sitting at the table, and they both look up when Clarke and Murphy walk in. Bellamy smiles at her, and Miller does, too, before he looks to Murphy.

“You caught them, too, huh?”

“Yep.”

Clarke can feel her cheeks heat up, and she looks over at Bellamy, then to Miller and Murphy. 

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m happy for you,” Murphy says, smiling a little. 

“You are?”

“I am, too,” Miller chimes in, and Clarke looks at him. 

“You, too?” 

“Jeez, you’re acting as if we want you to be a lonely spinstress forever,” Murphy snorts. 

Bellamy clears his throat. “I told Miller about the dreams.”

“Dreams?” Murphy echoes. “What dreams?” 

“How about I make some breakfast and we’ll talk?” Clarke moves towards the stove, but Bellamy reaches out and grabs her hand in his. Before she can register what’s happening, Bellamy stands and gives her a soft kiss on her cheek. Clarke blushes and smiles at him before turning to grab some pans, and Murphy and Miller’s _aws_ carry in the room. 

Even though Bellamy and Miller have already eaten, Clarke gets to work making Breakfast for everyone since she knows it won’t be long before the rest of the house wakes up. But she hopes that the four of them have enough time to talk before that happens. Once the food is done, Clarke covers the extra and places them in a warmer, then joins the others at the table. Murphy digs into his plate, and Bellamy and Miller take to picking at the fruit she’s placed out. The whole situation feels weird, and she knows why it does, but she wishes it didn’t.

“So, dreams?” Murphy asks between bites, and Clarke has to fight the urge to tell him not to talk with his mouth full. He was always terrible about that. 

Clarke pushes around the food on her plate with a fork and nods. “They started after Bellamy left,” she tells him. “I didn’t think much of them, since I knew I missed him, but the dreams never stopped.”

“I had dreams, too,” Bellamy adds. “Some were about just being back here, others were just about seeing her,” he looks at Clarke, “and a lot of them felt so real.”

“It wasn’t until last night that we found out we shared some of the same dreams.” Clarke adds. “It wasn’t _all_ of them, but we shared more of them than we thought.”

“How did that happen? Did you magic them or something?”

Clarke narrows her eyes at Murphy. “Do you really think I would do that?”

“No, but just thought I’d ask,” he shrugs. “So, it seems like the two of you have been seeing each other for the past five years.”

Clarke and Bellamy look at each other and Bellamy nods his head. “It seems you could put it that way.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Clarke says softly. “And I know how it must seem—”

“Oh, it’s weird, but I’m honestly not surprised.” Murphy looks between the two of them. “There was something before you left, and I’m convinced that if you had stayed, we would still have found ourselves here no matter what.” 

Murphy’s comment makes Clarke blush, and she takes a bite of her food. _If he saw it before, I wonder if the others did. What about Octavia…_

“Like I told Bellamy, I saw it, too.” Miller looks at her. “I truly am happy for you, Clarke.”

“Thank you.” She focuses her attention back on her food, and Bellamy’s hand finds her knee under the table, squeezing it. 

Being able to actually touch him and look at him, kiss him, still feels like a dream she might wake up from. When she looks at him, he smiles, and she places her right hand over his while she continues to eat. There’s still the others that they’re going to have to tell, but the two of them still have some things they need to talk through. There’s Octavia for one, which Clarke doesn’t know how she’s going to take it, and then there’s Raven, Monty, and Jasper. Charlotte and Madi are old enough to know what’s going on, but probably not the peculiarity of the situation. 

When she looks at her boys, her grown boys, they smile at her, too. For so long, she quit thinking about being with someone and only taking care of her children. After everything she’s been through, she didn’t think she would ever want to settle down with someone. She never thought she would want to settle down and have children herself either. For decades she’s put others before herself, always wanting to give them the best life she could, without thinking about what she wanted for herself.

When the four of them hear the sound of the others making their way down the stairs, Clarke and Bellamy look at each other as Bellamy’s hand moves from her knee to his, and she misses his touch immediately. Madi and Charlotte run into the kitchen first and immediately wrap Bellamy in a group hug, nearly knocking him back in his chair, but he laughs and holds them tight. Octavia skids into the kitchen, too, and buries her face in her brother’s chest.

“I thought I dreamed you.”

“I told you I’d come back.” Bellamy kisses the top of his sister’s head and then rests his cheek against it. After a moment, his eyes find Clarke and her heart begins to beat faster. He told her he was going to come home, and he did.

  
  


For the next few weeks, Clarke and Bellamy decide to keep their relationship and their feelings for one another a secret until they figure out the best way to tell everyone. There’s stolen kisses in the shadows, and light touches whenever they’re around everyone else. But at night, at night is when they’re allowed to be with each other without having to worry about the others seeing them. After being seen by both Miller and Murphy the first night in Bellamy’s room, they decided that it would be better if they stayed in Clarke’s. Her room is tucked away in the corner at the end of the hall, right across from the bathroom. 

For Clarke, it still feels like it’s not completely real, getting to be so close to him. Despite years of war and bloodshed, the way he touches her takes her breath away. He holds her close like he’s afraid she’ll disappear, and kisses her like it’s the only thing he has to do in life. She knows that they can’t stay hidden away from everyone else forever, but she enjoys being able to spend time with him like this.

Tonight, Bellamy rolls the two of them over to where he’s bracing himself above her, and Clarke massages his scalp with the tips of her fingers. Something she’s come to realize that Bellamy loves. He hums as he leans down to kiss her, and the talisman that she gave him what feels like a lifetime ago rests against her chest.

“I love you, Clarke,” he whispers as he presses his forehead against hers, and Clarke tilts her head up so she can kiss the tip of his nose.

“I love you, too, Bellamy.” The words bring a smile to her lips, and he mirrors it back at her. They would probably look like a couple of love-struck teenagers to others, but they can’t help it. This is _real_ , not a dream, and the two of them are unbelievably happy. 

He leans in to give her another kiss, and Clarke wraps her legs around his waist. She’s aware of the talisman moving whenever he moves, and when they pull apart, she picks the metal object up in her fingers.

“I did not think you would keep wearing this.”

“Why wouldn’t I? While I was away, it kept me going more times than I care to admit.” His voice is soft, and his breath fans out over her face. She flips the talisman around, and the griffin she etched into it stares back at her. 

“I always wondered why you chose that animal specifically, until you told me one night.”

Clarke smiles, but there’s a small pang in her chest as she does. “I haven’t heard anyone say my last name in a very long time.”

Bellamy settles on top of her further and lowers his lips to her ear. “Griffin,” he whispers, then kisses the side of her face. “Clarke Elizabeth Griffin.” His voice causes goosebumps to rise on her skin, and she clutches to his shirt.

“Bellamy Augustus Blake,” she whispers back at him, and he smiles.

When they begin kissing again, Clarke allows herself to get lost in him a little more. Everything is still so new, but they have time to just be together now. He kisses her harder, his fingers pressing into her skin more, and Clarke holds onto him like there’s nothing else in the world that matters. Unlike the other nights they’ve spent together, their hands roam freely now, and before Clarke can second guess herself, she pulls Bellamy’s shirt over his head. In her dreams, she’s seen him shirtless. She’s touched him in those dreams too. But now, he’s right in front of her, and she lets herself get swept up in him.

Later, when Bellamy is asleep beside her and the moonlight is dancing across his golden skin, Clarke summons her sketchbook and begins to draw him. _He looks younger like this_. She bites at her bottom lip as she draws, smiling whenever she can hear the little sounds he makes as he sleeps. She’s drawn him a lot over the years, but there’s a difference between memories and a living-breathing person laying in front of her. She’s not sure how long she spends working on the picture, but when she’s finished the sight of it makes her heart skip a beat. _My Bellamy_. She dates the picture in the bottom corner and then closes her sketchbook and places it on her nightstand. When she settles back into the covers, Bellamy rolls over and bands his arm across her stomach, pulling her close as he nuzzles her shoulder.

“I love you, Bellamy,” she murmurs, and Bellamy kisses her shoulder.

“I love you, too, Princess.”

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over hearing those words. As she closes her eyes, she takes in the warmth from his body being pressed against her and the sound of his even breathing, and then she drifts off to sleep.

  
  


Two months after Bellamy returns home, Clarke is outside pulling some vegetables from her garden for dinner while she waits for the guys to return from fishing. Things have felt perfect since he’s been back. The darkness that once hung in the house when he left is gone now, and everyone smiles more and laughs louder than used to. _Like nothing has changed_. 

But something has changed. Clarke and Bellamy have talked about how they would tell everyone, and how they believe the others might react. Bellamy even suggested taking Octavia away for a night to go camping so he could tell her away from everyone in case she decided to set something on fire, but Clarke told him that this involves her, too, and that she should be there. After all, it’s not like someone getting upset would change how the two of them feel about each other. It’s a little unfair that Clarke was able to see Bellamy while he was gone and actually get to talk to him while no one else was able to do so, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. 

There’s commotion in the house, but Clarke ignores it, having gotten used to children running around for years, but it’s when the door to the house bangs open that she straightens and turns around. Octavia stalks towards her, and Clarke notices that her sketchbook is clutched in her hand as she stops a little way from her.

“Octavia?”

“Are you sleeping with my brother?” The other girl’s voice is deathly low, and Clarke’s eyes widen.

“Octavia—”

“Answer the question, Clarke,” Octavia growls, and Clarke straightens, letting her basket of vegetables float to the ground.

“We are sleeping together, but not in the way you think.”

“Not in the way I think? Then what is _this_?” Octavia holds up the sketchbook, and the picture of Bellamy that Clarke drew the first night she took off his shirt stares back at her.

“I would like to know what gave you the right to look through my things.”

“Are you really going to lecture me on morals?” Octavia scoffs. “You’re sleeping with someone you’ve known since they were a child!”

“You don’t think I’ve thought about that?” Clarke’s voice rises. “Neither of us _asked_ for this to happen, Octavia, but it did.”

“What? And I’m supposed to believe that you _didn’t_ do something to make him fall in love with you?”

“If you truly believe I would do something like that then it is clear that you do not know me at all.”

“No, I don’t know you. I know your name is Clarke and that you take in children whose parents don’t want them, but other than that you do not tell us anything about yourself. How much can Bellamy really know about you? He’s only been home for two months and yet he jumps straight into bed with you?”

“It’s complicated,” Clarke says slowly, and Octavia narrows her eyes. “While he was away, we shared a few dreams—”

“Dreams? And you honestly expect me to believe that you _didn’t_ use magic on him?” Octavia throws the sketchbook to the side, and Clarke tries not to flinch as it lands in the newly-dug dirt.

“Octavia, I understand that you’re upset—”

“ _Upset?_ No. I was _upset_ when my bunny died. I was _upset_ when I sprained my ankle and couldn’t do anything for a month. I was _upset_ when Madi stuck gum in my hair. Now, I’m pissed.”

Blue lights spark between Octavia’s fingers, and Clarke looks towards them. “Octavia—”

The other girl steps forward. “I want you to break my brother from whatever spell you have him under.”

“I did not put Bellamy under any spell, Octavia.”

“Really?” Octavia tilts her head to the side. “I’ve seen the necklace he wears. The griffin etched on the back of it. I’ve seen other necklaces like that, too. Like the one you gave Serena and Elijah before they left. They’re magical, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but—”

“Let him go!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Clarke.”

“Then don’t.” Clarke steps forward, but there’s still a few yards of space between them.

“Clarke, if you do not let him go I swear—”

“I’m not holding him! We love each other, Octavia.”

“Shut up!” Octavia raises her hand, and a few things happen at once. 

The front door to the house bangs open for a second time, and Clarke is vaguely aware of someone calling her name as a blue ball erupts from the tips of Octavia’s fingers. Then Bellamy blocks her view completely. 

Clarke stares in horror as Bellamy lets out a strangled grunt, and she dashes forward in time to catch Bellamy before the weight of his body causes her to fall to her knees. She can see the blue light spreading through his veins as Octavia lets out an anguished cry.

“Bellamy!” The other girl drops to her knees beside the two of them. “Get away from him!”

“Octavia, let me heal him.”

“I don’t want you touching him!” Octavia leans forward and tears stream down her cheeks as she takes her brother’s face in her hands. “Bellamy, wake up.”

“Octavia, let me help him.”

“No!”

“Miller, Jasper, pull her away from here.” She calls, not looking at the two of them, and Miller and Jasper appear behind Octavia as they wrap their hands around her arms and pull her back. Once Clarke has room, she cradles Bellamy’s head in her lap and presses her fingers to his temples, closing her eyes.

“Monty, keep Madi and Charlotte inside. Raven, Murphy, come here.”

Octavia is still crying, but Clarke can’t focus on that right now. She can feel when Raven and Murphy are beside her, and she opens her eyes to look at Raven.

“Take the talisman out of Bellamy’s shirt, and place his thumb and forefinger on it. When I tell you, I need you to rub it with his fingers three times.” Raven nods her head and does as she’s told, and Clarke keeps her attention on Bellamy.

“Murphy, get behind me. If this works, don’t let my head hit the ground.”

When the two of them are in place, Clarke closes her eyes and presses her fingers firmly against Bellamy’s head. She can feel the magic flowing through him, and she tries to get his mind to focus on it. _He won’t be able to recover from this if this doesn’t work_. Octavia is powerful, and despite the magic that Bellamy may possess, no human could survive an attack filled with that much rage. She begins whispering a small chant to help focus on what she needs to do, but she can also feel her heart breaking. _I can’t lose him_. 

When she finally looks up at Raven, she’s acutely aware of tears falling down her cheeks just as there are some welling in Raven’s eyes. Clarke nods her head, and Raven moves Bellamy’s fingers around the face of the talisman once, twice, three times.

Pain shoots through Clarke’s body and her vision goes white as the magic that was flowing through Bellamy’s body enters hers. She can hear herself crying out, but it sounds detached. Distant. Like she’s not in her body anymore. The spell spreads throughout her, and Clarke can feel her muscles beginning to weaken and her concentration on Bellamy slips. 

It becomes hard to breathe and Clarke falls backwards, but she’s coherent enough to realize that Murphy did as she said and caught her. She gasps for air, and she can hear the others around her saying her name, but she can’t answer them. 

As Clarke slips into the darkness, the talisman around Bellamy’s neck cracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because they're always trying to save each other...aren't they?
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what, I said this chapter would be up Thursday but it's Wednesday and I have no self control, sooo....
> 
> Here is the final chapter :)
> 
> ALSO! I added a link to a tumblr post in the beginning notes of the first chapter because it's pretty close to what I had in mind when I pictured this story, so if you want to see what I was kind of imaging then I suggest checking it out!

Bellamy starts awake gasping for air, and when he opens his eyes he’s not sure where he is. His heart is racing and he can feel the sheets sticking to his skin from the sweat, and he can’t help but feel like there’s something terribly wrong. The room he’s in is dark, only illuminated by a couple of candles on a table beside him, and then Octavia’s face comes into view above him.

“Bell.” Her voice is rough and there are tears streaking her face as she looks at him. “Bell, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She starts crying more, and Bellamy lifts his arm as much as he can since it feels like a brick has been tied to it, and he pulls Octavia down to his chest. And for the first time in nearly five and a half years, he listens to his little sister break down like she’s still twelve years old. 

When she sits up, she’s still crying, but not as hard. “I was upset and hurt and I lost my temper and I knew I shouldn’t have raised my hand at Clarke but I couldn’t stop myself and then you went down and I thought—I thought I lost you and it would have been my fault.” She starts crying even harder. “It would have been my fault.” 

The thought of Clarke makes his mind reel, but with his little sister crying in front of him he knows Clarke can wait. Bellamy pushes himself up and pulls Octavia into his lap how he used to when she was younger. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. That _we_ didn’t tell you. But I’m okay, O. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m fine. ”

At that, Octavia sits up and looks at him, and he can feel his body tense. “Clarke saved you,” she says softly. “She hasn’t woken up yet.”

Bellamy’s heart drops. “What?”

Octavia stands up and turns around to pull him up from the bed, and then she guides him towards his bedroom door and down the hall to the stairs. He can still feel the talisman resting against his chest, and when he reaches the stairs he takes them two at a time until he reaches the second floor. The door to Clarke’s room is open slightly and he can see the yellow candle light seeping into the hallway. He can feel his mouth go dry, and when he reaches up to rub the talisman, he can feel something scrape against his finger. When he looks down at it, the smooth face of it has a crack down the middle, and when he flips it over, the Griffin looks black.

 _Clarke_.

He sprints towards her room and pushes through the door, finding everyone else surrounding Clarke’s bed while Monty and Jasper run their hands through the air above her body. Their matching green magic seeps into the blanket that’s covering her, but when they notice Bellamy, they stop. When they move, Bellamy gazes at Clarke as she lays in the bed. _She looks peaceful_. As he draws closer to her, he can see blue light moving under her skin, and when he reaches out to touch her hand, she feels cold. 

Bellamy sinks to his knees beside the bed and leans onto it as he wraps her hand in both of his. Her breathing is soft and steady, and even though he wants to believe that she’s just sleeping, he knows he can’t. He runs his thumb over the back of her hand then lifts it to his lips as he kisses her knuckles. She doesn’t move.

“What happened?”

“When you went down, she asked me to help you rub the talisman that she gave you. And when I did, the spell that hit you was transferred to her,” Raven explains softly. “It was the only thing she could do.”

Bellamy reaches up to grab the talisman while his other hand stays on hers. “She didn’t tell me…”

“I looked into it,” Miller crosses his arms over his chest. “The talismans that she makes transfer energies. In your case, any pain you were feeling was transferred to her. With the spell that was cast, you wouldn’t have been able to survive it.”

“And she can?”

“She’s stronger than any of us know, Bellamy.” Jasper rests his hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “She’s going to get through this.”

Bellamy turns back to look at Clarke. “She has to,” he murmurs. He props his arms up on the bed with her hand still wrapped in his and he kisses her fingers. _She has to come back to me_.

  
  


The darkness fades away to sunlight, and Clarke finds herself standing in a field. She can see the mountains surrounding the land, and off in the distance there’s water. She looks around, wondering if Bellamy will be waiting for her like he usually is whenever she dreams, but he’s not there. She starts in the direction of the water, and like most dreams she makes it there in only a few steps. She can taste the saltwater in the air and feel the sand under her bare feet.

There’s an ache in her heart as she stands on the beach, and she pushes away the memories that are trying to rise to the surface. She wraps her arms around herself, and stares out at the horizon. _It’s been so long_.

“You look good for your age.” A familiar voice comes from the side, and Clarke turns towards it, smiling when she sees Wells standing a little ways away from her.

“You’re older than me.” She walks towards him, and Wells wraps her up in a hug. The type of hug that brings her back to when they were still young. Before they were thrown into the middle of something they didn’t want to be in. “I’ve missed you,” Clarke whispers into his shoulder, and Wells’ arms tighten around her.

“I’ve missed you, too, Clarke.” 

The two of them hold onto each other for a while, and when they pull apart, Clarke wipes the tears off her cheeks.

“Why are you here?”

“I want to know what happened.”

Clarke presses her lips together and looks back out at the water, crossing her arms over her chest. “Octavia found out, and she tried to attack me but Bellamy jumped in front of me.”

“Of course he did.” Wells walks up beside her and they begin to make their way down the beach. “How did you get the talisman to work?”

“I focused his thoughts and asked Raven to help me.” Clarke kicks the sand. “He was going to die, Wells. I haven’t seen that much raw power since—”

“Us.”

“Yes.” The two of them walk further in silence, but the anxiety that she’s feeling builds up until she can’t push it down anymore. Clarke stops and looks up at him. A lump forms in her throat and her heart rate begins to race. “What if I can’t come out of this, Wells?”

“I know if there’s anyone who could survive this, it would be you, Clarke.” Clarke doesn’t try to wipe the tears away as they fall, and she reaches out and grabs Wells’ right hand with her left. Despite how many years it’s been, she can still feel the scar that’s in the center of his palm. The same one that’s in the middle of hers. “We’re still tied together.”

“I know.” Her lips press together for a moment, and then she looks up at him. “Would you hate me if I said it’s time?”

“No,” he assures her. “I think it is, too.”

“Are you going to come visit me?” She asks, looking up at him, and he smiles.

“I’m already on my way.”

Clarke nods her head and wraps her best friend up in another hug. The two of them haven’t seen each other in person in over fifty years, and the idea that she’ll be able to see him in person and introduce him to the people she’s raised for the past nearly twenty-five years. And they’re going to get to meet the last of her family from before. Before she became known as the witch in the woods.

  
  


_I can’t come back only to lose her._ Bellamy stays beside her bed well into the night, and it takes Murphy and Raven ushering Charlotte and Madi to bed before everyone else even considers trying to get some rest. He hasn’t left her beside since he sat down, and he hasn’t let go of her hand either. 

The front door of the house opens, and everyone else in the rooms stands. Unlike his friends, Bellamy doesn’t have the ability to sense what’s happening, or who it may be, but no one moves to barricade the doors. Bellamy listens as multiple pairs of feet start up the stairs, and then the bedroom to the room is opening, and Serena and Elijah stand together in the doorway. 

Bellamy never expected to never see them again, since they were already older than them and Elijah had left before he did. Clarke told him when Serena decided to leave during one of their dreams, but he didn’t think he’d get to see them now. Both of them have some gray hair, despite still looking young for how old they are, and he knows they both have families, so he wonders what they’re doing here.

Serena’s bright blue eyes scan the room, and when she steps forward, her energy radiates throughout it.

“What happened?”

Everyone looks at each other, and Elijah crosses his arms over his chest, looking at everyone. “For your sake, someone better start talking right now.”

Bellamy looks back at Clarke, and the ache he’s feeling in his chest expands. “She saved me.” 

Surprisingly, it’s Murphy who takes over telling the story, but Bellamy doesn’t listen to it. He knows what happened, and now all he can think about is how he’s going to get her back. This is the only time he’s ever wished he had magic. 

“Bellamy, can I talk to you?” Elijah’s voice breaks through the haze in his mind, and Bellamy looks up at him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll watch her.” Serena’s hand comes to cover both his and Clarke’s. “Monty, will you help me?”

Bellamy hesitates for a moment, not wanting to leave her side, but with Serena standing over him he knows he doesn’t have a choice. He kisses Clarke’s hand one last time then stands, allowing Serena to take his place. As she bends over, he can see a small pendant hanging around her neck, an amber stone. After a moment, Bellamy turns and follows Elijah down to the kitchen. The other guy begins to pull the cups out of the cabinet, then he runs his hand over a pitcher like they’ve seen Clarke do hundreds of times and it fills with water.

“I thought everyone ended up forgetting how to find this place,” Bellamy says more to himself than anything, and when Elijah turns around, he smirks.

“Only if you do not care to find it again.” He hands Bellamy a small empty glass and when he looks at it, it fills with a brown liquid. “You found it.”

“Yes, I suppose I did.”

Elijah takes a drink from his glass and Bellamy takes a drink, too. The two of them stand there for a moment, looking at each other, and Bellamy’s childhood begins to play through his mind. Serena taught him how to garden and pitch a tent, and Elijah taught him how to fish and cook. Among a lot of other things.

“How did you find it again?” Bellamy asks, and Elijah looks up at the ceiling before looking at Bellamy.

“I’ll send this up to the room and then we can take a walk.”

The two of them walk towards the stairs and Elijah lifts up the tray in one hand and it floats away up to the second floor. _I thought they forgot how to use their magic, too._ Bellamy opens the door and motions for Elijah to go out first and then he follows behind, closing the door softly behind him. In the moonlight, Bellamy can see more of the fine lines and wrinkles that have etched a way into the other man’s face, and more questions rise in his mind. 

Elijah starts towards the side of the house, undoubtedly heading towards the river they all used to swim in, and Bellamy follows. Unlike when he was younger, there are no fireflies to light his way, only the moonlight that slips through the leaves of the trees, and his mind drifts back to Clarke lying in her bed. 

“You said that everyone ended up forgetting this place. Why do you think that is?”

Bellamy looks down at the ground as he steps over a decaying limb. “The longer they’re gone, the more they forget. Clarke’s charms and enchantments hide this place, so if they can’t remember where it was then they’ll never find it again.”

“That’s true, but you’re missing something.”

“What could I be missing?” 

“Who controls the magic that surrounds the house? The forest?”

“Clarke.”

“Yes. And?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes as he continues to follow Elijah towards the sound of the water. When he was younger, Elijah had a habit of trying to get everyone to figure things out on their own, even if they had no idea what the answer could be. And it seems like now is one of those times. 

A thought makes its way into his head, and Bellamy stops for a second. “She doesn’t want anyone to find it again,” he says softly, and Elijah nods his head.

“Serena and I made a pact that we would never forget this place, but we knew that she would not want us to come back.”

“Why wouldn’t she want you to come back? You’re her family.”

“I didn’t understand in the beginning either,” Elijah says as he holds back a low hanging branch and the two of them walk through it, “but over time you begin to.”

The water looks black in the river except for the moonlight reflecting on some of the waves, and Bellamy stares into it. _Why wouldn’t she want her children to come back? Shouldn’t she want to see the lives they make for themselves? See her grandchildren_ —the realization washes over him like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head. His heart constricts and it feels like the air in his lungs has turned to lead. _She doesn’t want to outlive them. Just how she’ll outlive me._

“In all the years I spent here, I have never seen my mother do something for herself. She never got close to anyone who wasn’t her kids, but even then she never got too close to us because she knew she would have to say goodbye to us one day.” Elijah turns towards him, and nods towards the talisman around his neck. “It took a lot of convincing for her to give me one of those.”

Bellamy picks it up and runs his finger over the crack. “I thought she gave everyone one.”

Elijah reaches into his shirt and pulls out the necklace he’s wearing. It’s small like Serena’s and it seems to be made out of amber, too, but instead of being round like hers, it’s a diamond. 

“When I first learned about them, I asked to have one for when I left. Serena and I had already made the pact to not forget this place, and I knew that if we could have one of these then we would always be connected to here. It took years for her to agree, and the night I left she called me and Serena into her room and gave us each one. But we had to promise that we would not use it to keep coming home. It was to remind us of where we came from, nothing else. And I kept my promise. For nearly fifteen years I never used this,” he turns the stone over, “until tonight.” 

Bellamy looks down at it. “How did you know?”

“I felt it.” Elijah runs his hand over his chest, like he’s trying to rub away a pain. “I was preparing dinner for my family, and it was like the breath had been knocked from my lungs.” He looks across the river. “When Serena left to be with Johnathan, we decided to live in the same town with our families. We live just beyond the woods.”

“So, both of you felt it?” 

“We did. Serena met me halfway to my house while I was heading to hers. That feeling...it was like the magic had been sucked out of me. Out of both of us.” Elijah looks at him. “Did anyone here feel it?” 

Bellamy shakes his head slowly, trying to come to terms with everything he’s being told, but then he shrugs lightly. “I don’t know. didn’t wake up until a few hours ago.” Bellamy’s eyebrows furrow together. “Do you think anyone else felt the same thing you did?”

“I do not know.” Elijah stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks back in the direction of the house. “Come. We should be there if they have.” 

Bellamy is silent the entire walk back to the house, his mind reeling with all of the things he’s been told. And he can’t turn it off. _She never wanted them to come back. She didn’t want to see them grow old while she stayed young. What will happen when I begin to age? What if she’s terrified of having to watch me go somewhere she can’t? Could she become mortal?_

A snap of a branch breaks Bellamy out of his thoughts, and Elijah moves in front of him how he would when they were younger and encountered a wild animal in the woods. The sound of more twigs breaking and the crunching of leaves and dirt grow closer, and Bellamy pulls the small knife he carries out of his pocket. 

Then, a man comes through the tree line. He has dark skin and dark eyes, and when he removes his hood, Bellamy notices that he looks about the same age as Clarke, maybe slightly older. His gaze finds Bellamy for a second before sliding to Elijah. 

“You are not welcome here. I suggest you leave.”

“You must be Elijah,” the other man says. 

“And who are you?” Bellamy asks, sidling up to Elijah.

The man smirks. “You must be Bellamy.” He turns back to Elijah and raises his head. “I’m here to see your mother.” Elijah goes to say something, but the man raises his hand. “I already know. She’s expecting me.”

 _She’s expecting him?_ “You still haven’t answered who you are.”

“My name is Wells Jaha, and Clarke is my best friend.” 

Neither of the boys know what to say, and after looking at each other, they begin making their way towards the house with Wells Jaha following behind them. _He’s her best friend?_ Bellamy racks his mind trying to remember if Clarke had ever told him anything about Wells, but he can’t find it if she had. Although...his mind drifts back to one night where Clarke seemed down, and not because she thought that it was only a dream and he wasn’t real, it was something else. When he asked her what was wrong, she smiled sadly at him, her right thumb running over the palm of her left hand. 

_“This day has always carried bad memories for me. I lost someone I really cared about.”_

_“I’m sorry, Clarke.” Bellamy reached out and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together._

_“It’s okay.” She squeezed it. “They’re still around, but we had to go our separate ways. It was what was best.”_

_“You loved them.”_

_“I still do. But not—” she stopped, ducking her head for a moment before turning to smile up at him. “Let's take a walk.”_

Bellamy turns around to look at the man following him. _He was probably the person she was talking about. Does she still love him?_ That thought doesn’t sit well with Bellamy, and with everything that’s going on, he doesn’t know if he should ever ask her about it. 

When the three of them reach the house, Bellamy pushes through the door first, then starts right up the stairs. The footsteps echo in the hallway despite the rug that Clarke placed down years ago, and Bellamy prepares himself to see her laying in the bed again. The thought that she might never wake up enters his mind, and he balls his hands up and puts them in his pockets. _She’s going to wake up._

Everyone looks up when Wells enters the room, and they all stand, crowding around Clarke’s bed like they’re trying to shield her.

“Bell, who is this?” Octavia asks, narrowing her eyes. 

“I’m Wells Jaha. I’m a friend of your mother.” Wells looks towards the bed and lets out a soft sigh. “I’m here to help.”

“What could you possibly do that we can’t?” Murphy crosses his arms over his chest. 

“My being here is already helping her, and since I’m older than you by at least a hundred and thirty years I’m sure there’s still a few things I could teach you.” No one says anything, and Wells looks between the group. “May I?” 

Begrudgingly, everyone moves out of the way, and Octavia stands by Bellamy’s side. He crosses his arms over his chest, digging his fingers into his skin as he watches the other guy bend over Clarke’s bed. He places his hand to her forehead, then checks her pulse at her wrist, and after he’s done a chair appears behind him and he falls into it, running his hand over his head. 

“God, you’re reckless.” 

“She did it—”

“I know _why_ she did it,” Wells says, looking over at Octavia. “But that does not mean it was smart.” 

“What? Was she just supposed to let Bellamy die?” Raven starts forward, but Miller grabs her arm.

“My statement stands. If she had not done what she did then Bellamy would be dead, but by doing so she’s placed herself in a very difficult situation. She is not as strong as she used to be, neither am I, but,” Wells sighs, “I guess that's just how things are meant to be.” 

Bellamy watches as his left thumb runs over the center of his right palm over and over again before placing his hand in his lap. He’s seen Clarke do the same thing except with the opposite hand multiple times in their shared dreams, and he wonders if it’s a coincidence.

Serena steps forward, her light steps silent in the room, and she kneels beside the bed next to Well’s chair, taking Clarke’s hand in hers. 

“Will you tell us about her?” 

Wells looks around the room then back at Clarke. A small smile plays on his face and leans forward whispering, “when you make it out of this you are going to get the biggest ‘I told you so’ ever.”

When he leans back in his chair again, Bellamy doesn’t miss the way his thumb runs over the palm of his hand again before he folds his hands together. Bellamy knows that he is the only one who Clarke has really talked to, but he understands that he still doesn’t know everything. Wells’ eyes settle on him for a moment longer than everyone else, and then he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

“Clarke and I grew up together in a small village called Arkadia.”

“Where is that?”

“You won’t find it on any map. It was razed to the ground about a century ago.” Everyone is silent, and Bellamy looks towards Clarke. He asked her once if she missed home, and she said that she did sometimes, but not much more than that. 

“What happened?” Jasper asks, and everyone in the room leans forward. When Wells looks up, the shadows from the candlelight dance across his face, and Bellamy has a feeling this isn’t going to be easy for him to tell.

“The story is that we started a war.” Wells looks towards Clarke. “Before she became a mother, she was the most revered witch in our part of the world. She was terrifying when she needed to be, but the fact of the matter is that we were both pulled into something we had no control over. Put into situations that no eighteen or nineteen-year-old should have to endure. But we were, and we did, and our souls are stained red because of it.”

“You were punished for it, weren’t you?” Serena asks, and Wells looks at her. “You were banished.”

“Clarke always said you were naturally gifted.” He smiles a little. “Yes, we were banished. But, we are missing some of the key things of the story.”

“Like how you’re connected?”

“Yes, starting with that.” Wells sits up straighter. “Our lives are connected. If one of us is hurt, the other can feel it. We can draw energy from the other, communicate without being near each other, enter each other’s dreams,” Wells looks towards Bellamy then, and raises his eyebrow slightly. “Very few people ever experience something like this, but not everyone wishes to.”

He raises his right hand and turns it over so his palm is facing up, and there is a small speck in the center of it. “We knew there was a possibility that we could be split up in order to cover more ground for the King’s conquest, and we didn’t want to spend our lives growing old on a battlefield, so we made a pact. During a full moon on the winter solstice, we performed an immortality ceremony, effectively halting our aging.”

“What happened next?”

“Well, we did not realize just how deep the connection would go. When it came time for us to fight, we levelled fields. Burned houses. We striked down anyone and anything who stood in our way, all without breaking a sweat. See, our magic was amplified a hundred fold because of our connection. We were already two of the most powerful witches our generation by far, surpassing even the teachers who were meant to train us and, together, we were spectacular.”

“It was my fault that we got banished,” he says softly, the dark echo of years past hanging onto every word. “I was captured one day. An ambush. They slaughtered the men I was with and took me to a place just outside the village where we grew up. Their magic was dark, frightening, and whenever I moved it felt as if hot needles were being stabbed into every inch of my body.” Wells shivers, and Octavia moves closer to Bellamy. “But, even so, I could hear children running outside of my cell, hear women speaking...and I began to wonder who these people could be who could go one with their lives while I was being tortured on the other side of the door. Then, she came to me in a dream, bruised and bloody, asking where I was. She had gone home to say goodbye to her father, only to have the same people who kidnapped me tear our village to the ground.”

“When we talked, it was clear that we were done. There had been too much fighting, and bloodshed, and we couldn’t do it anymore. “The war to end all wars,” they said.” Wells shakes his head. “After nearly thirty years of fighting a war that shouldn’t have even begun in the first place, we wanted to leave. We wanted _peace_. But there was never going to be any.”

Wells places his head in his hands, and Serena reaches out to touch his arm. “We were stopped by a battalion of soldiers, willing to die for their cause and we didn’t want to fight anymore. I was already too weak, I was dying, and the only thing that kept me alive was her.” He sniffles. “She knew what she had to do to get me out of there, and there was nothing I could do to help her.”

“She killed them all, didn’t she?” Monty asks, and Wells nods his head.

“The mighty _Wanheda_ took her last stand and accomplished something that will live on in infamy. She killed the soldiers, everyone in the compound, and the lands around us became a wasteland. Trees were scorched, ponds became dry holes in the ground, as did the rivers, there was no sign of life for miles all around us. She saved my life, but in turn she killed a part of herself because of it.”

“When it was over, we hid away from the rest of the world. We were both broken, and wounded, _tired_ , and we did not know how to continue our lives after everything we had done. Then, a year later, the elders found us and banished us to different parts of the world. They said we were too powerful to be kept together, and with banishment comes a reduction in our power. Which is why you will never see either of us do anything more than a sweep of our hand for the most part.”

Wells looks up. “It took both of us a long time to come to terms with everything we’ve done. To forgive each other, and ourselves. But, it worked out in the end. This life, living here in the woods and taking care of people who need her, it’s what she wanted. She’s still guarded, and rightly so, because she’s still terrified of hurting those she loves. And she loves all of you.” Wells’ eyes find Bellamy. “And you are the only person she has ever wanted to give up her immortality for.”

Bellamy’s heart stops. “What?”

“I never thought it would happen, but she’s allowed herself to be loved. Instead of giving her all for her children, she’s finally doing something for herself, and it’s because of you.”

Bellamy looks towards Clarke, and his feet move him towards the other side of the bed. Her skin looks nearly transparent in the candlelight, and there’s a slight pink tint to her cheeks. She looks like Clarke, and his heart breaks. Bellamy reaches out to clasp her hand in his, and he runs his thumb over her knuckles.

“I need her to come back to me. To us.”

“Don’t worry,” Wells says softly. “She already is.”

The first thing she’s aware of is the sound of Wells’ voice as he talks, and the feeling of someone’s hand wrapped around her own. She focuses her mind, and smiles slightly at the story her friend is telling.

“Are you telling stories again, Jaha?” _I should have known better than to trust him unsupervised_. When she opens her eyes, Wells smirks at her, but she doesn’t have much time to do anything before her children rush towards her.

“Clarke!” Jasper calls, and he practically falls on top of her as he tries to hug her, as does everyone else. 

Clarke laughs as she tries to hold onto everyone, but when they pull away she looks towards Bellamy. There are tears in his eyes, and she can see the making of a five o’clock shadow on his jaw as he looks down at her. _He’s okay_. He takes her hand and raises it up to his lips and kisses it.

“You’re okay,” she whispers, and tears begin to form in her eyes, too.

“Because of you.” He holds her hand in both of his and kisses it again. “You came back to us.”

“Of course, I did.”

Bellamy leans forward and gives her a soft kiss, and Clarke’s eyes flutter closed. His lips are warm against hers, and soft, and the thought that she may have never been able to kiss him again enters her mind, but she pushes it away. She can. And that’s what matters. When they pull apart, Bellamy’s eyes shine as he looks down at her.

“There are others here to see you.”

When he moves from her field of view, Clarke notices Elijah and Serena standing off in the corner, and her heart swells. The tears that were already forming begin to roll down her cheeks, and she opens her arms up to them. Serena rushes towards her first, wrapping her up in the type of hug only Serena could give. 

“I missed you, mom.”

“I missed you, too.”

As Serena pulls back, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, Elijah comes up and Clarke lets out a wet laugh as he nearly crumbles into her like how he did when he was a kid. “Don’t scare us like that.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to send a message first,” she teases, and even though no one else laughs, Elijah does. “I’ve missed both of you so much.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Serena smirks, “Eli was worried you’d kick us out for coming back.”

“I wouldn’t do _that_ —”

Clarke is cut off by the sound of the front door opening, and everyone stands as the footsteps grow louder and louder, and Clarke pushes herself up into a sitting position. The door busts open, and on the other side are five more people, all older than Serena and Elijah, and their eyes immediately find her sitting in the bed. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Mom!” Clarke clamps her hand over her mouth as more of her kids make their way into the room, and she can’t help how hard she begins to cry as she looks at them.

Charlotte and Madi run in, too, and Clarke is pretty sure she’s hasn't felt this loved in a very long time.

* * *

  
**_Ten Years Later…_ **

Bellamy pushes the door to the tavern open and a bell sounds above his head. Octavia looks up from where she’s wiping down the counter and she smiles at him, but one glance to her left and Bellamy finds himself trying to hide his smirk as he approaches the crowd. There’s a guy in the center of it, and Bellamy notices that he’s talking with his hands a lot but he can’t quite make out what he’s saying. He takes up the closest empty stool to the crowd and sits down as Octavia pours him a glass, and he watches as she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as the man’s voice raises.

“She’s powerful! The stories I’ve read, she needs to be feared!”

The crowd of people surrounding the man laugh, and Bellamy smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. _He’s definitely not from around here_. Over the past decade, everyone in town has come to think that the witch is nothing more than a story. Well, everyone who is not desperate enough to go searching for her. Aside from this guy it seems. 

Once the crowd disperses, the man turns around to face the bar again, and Octavia moves to refill his drink. From what Bellamy can see, the man is either a scholar or someone who believes he will get rich from finding the witch. Bellamy listens as the man keeps trying to talk to Octavia, oblivious to the fact that she’s trying not to laugh. But, when someone else calls for her attention, Octavia leaves and the man turns towards Bellamy.

“Excuse me, but have you heard anything about the witch who lives in the woods?”

“The witch who lives in the woods?” Bellamy asks, and the man nods his head. “Well, everyone knows the story.”

“Do they?” The man’s eyes widen. “I’m Finn Collins,” he holds out his hand. “I’m doing research on the difference between magical beings in different parts of the world, and I was told that there is a witch who lives in the woods here. She takes people’s children in exchange for whatever the parents may want.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow. “And what does she do with the children?”

“Well, she eats them.”

Octavia reappears, covering her mouth with her hand, and Bellamy nods his head solemnly. “That is unfortunate. She stole my child.”

“She _what?_ ” Finn Collins drops the pen he is holding and Bellamy smirks.

“Leaving your wife to take care of your child is not “stealing”.” Octavia rolls her eyes, and the researcher’s mouth drops open. 

“W-wife?”

“For ten years.” Bellamy holds up his left hand and his silver wedding band gleams in the yellow light. “You could meet her, if you want.”

“Meet the witch in the woods?”

“If you’d like.”

“If she’s real, then why does no one talk about her?”

“See,” Octavia begins, leaning onto the bar, “everyone knows she’s there, they just don’t acknowledge it unless they need to. And she doesn’t eat her children, I came out just fine.”

“Now _that_ is debatable.”

Octavia swats at Bellamy over the counter, but the man sitting beside him doesn’t say anything. His face is pale, and his hands are shaking, and Bellamy reaches out to touch his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” the man swallows hard. “I’m fine. Well, thank you for all of your help, but I should get going.”

Before Bellamy and Octavia can say anything, the man throws a few coins on the counter and is out the door. The two of them look at each other then laugh, shaking their heads. 

“It seems that more people will begin wondering about the famed witch in the woods,” Bellamy chuckles, sipping on his drink.

“So much has changed in the last ten years. Do you think they’ll always come looking for her?”

“I believe no matter what, there will always be someone looking for the witch in the woods. Whether she’s her fifty years from now, or it’s you, or Madi, or Charlotte. There will always be someone who needs the witch’s help.”

Octavia smiles at him and reaches out to take his hand. “You should go home to your wife. You’re the dad.”

“Yes, I probably should.” Bellamy squeezes his sister’s hand one last time and stands, pulling money out for his drink. “When will you be coming home?”

“Luna said she’ll lock up, so Lincoln and I should be there in time for dinner.”

"Don't be too late, or else you'll be on dish duty." 

Bellamy grins when Octavia swats at him with a towel then heads towards the door, pushing his way out into the setting sun. He follows the edge of the village until he reaches an old tree, then he ducks under it’s branches. He doesn’t need to look at it fully to know that there’s B+C carved into the trunk of it. 

The dirt softens his steps, and the wet leaves don’t make any noise as he walks over them and in the direction of home. _Home_. He’s been home for longer than he was at war, but it still feels like yesterday he walked through her doors and kissed her for the first time. 

Before long, he can see yellow light breaking through the dense leaves, and a smile makes its way onto his face as he nears it. He can hear some of the children running around outside, and his smile widens when he sees Augustus and Jakob running between the rain barrels, chasing each other with sticks.

“Daddy!” Jakob notices him first and Bellamy smiles as he leans down to pick him up, with his little brother following right behind him. 

“Hey, little man.”

“What about me?” Augustus looks up at him and Bellamy picks him up, too. 

“You’re my little man, too.”

“Mommy says you’re in trouble.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“You didn’t do the dishes before she cooked.” Augustus finishes, and Bellamy frowns.

“I am in trouble, aren’t I?”

“Uh-huh.” Both of the boys nod and Bellamy clicks his tongue.

“Well, let’s go see how much trouble daddy’s in.”

As Bellamy pushes his way into the house, Charlotte and Madi run down the stairs and nearly knock into Bellamy and the boys trying to find Miranda. Before Bellamy can even ask what’s happening, Clarke appears at the top of the stairs, her hands on her hips and a slight scowl on her face.

“Honey, I’m home.” Bellamy grins, and despite the fact that he knows Clarke is upset with him, he can still see her fighting the smile that’s trying to make its way onto her face.

“Boys, you need to clean up before dinner.”

“But we’re not dirty!”

“Yeah, we’re not dirty!”

“The two of you were running through the mud. Listen to your mother and go clean up.” Bellamy puts the two of them down and they make their way up the stairs past Clarke who kisses each of them on the head.

“Thank you.”

When she makes her way down the stairs, Bellamy doesn’t let her walk past him as he reaches out and wraps his arms around her waist.

“I’m sorry for not doing the dishes.” He leans forward and kisses her cheek. “I’ll do them for the next week.”

Clarke pouts angrily at him. “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks for missing one night?”

When she tries to get out of his arms, Bellamy tightens his hold on her and leans in to kiss her cheek again. It causes her to giggle, and then he’s able to give her a proper kiss. “Two weeks, and I’ll even make you dessert.”

“Brownies?” Clarke’s face lights up and the sight causes Bellamy’s heart to swell.

“Whatever you want.” He gives her another kiss, but before he can pull away Clarke wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for another kiss. His hand finds its way to her stomach, and he spreads his fingers across it. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she hums, and Bellamy bends down to kiss the small bump that is barely showing.

“Let’s get you and our kids fed.”

Clarke leans up and gives him one last soft kiss. “I love you, Bellamy.”

“I love you, too, Clarke.”

While they’re finishing making dinner, Octavia arrives with everyone else and Clarke waves her hand, causing a large tent to appear behind the house with enough seats for everyone. As Bellamy helps bring the food out, his eyes find Clarke and where she’s letting their kids feel their new brother or sister. She must feel him looking because she looks towards him and smiles. The same smile he remembers seeing the day he came home, and when they first said that they loved each other, and the one that was in all of his dreams...out of every possible way he expected his life to go, this was the only thing that ever felt right.

Married to the witch in the woods.

Inspiration for Bellamy saying that Clarke stole his child:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the last two chapters planned out for a while, I just never had time to sit down and write them, but here they are! I really enjoyed writing this story and it never failed to make me smile. I love those two being soft with each other <3 Also, I didn't realize until after I wrote this chapter that Wells and Clarke's connection is very similar to the parabati connection in The Shadowhunter Chronicles and I just want to say that was definitely not intentional lol
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for sticking with me and leaving comments and kudos and thinking this story was good enough to bookmark <3
> 
> I hope you liked the journey  
> Xx
> 
> Also, a little explanation with Clarke's other children showing up: Since Serena and Elijah had the talismans they were able to feel whenever something happened with Clarke since they were connected to her, but with everyone else they didn't realize something had happened until Clarke had been asleep and unable to keep the charms and stuff up around her house. So, in my head they all just ended up realizing that they could go back home and realized that something must have happened for them to suddenly remember everything. And Bellamy's talisman cracking basically meant that it did what it was supposed to do and now it's not going to work again because what Clarke did was a huge deal, and everything has it's limits.
> 
> I get that I probably should have tried to explain all of this in the story but I really didn't see a good time to put it in, so I hope this isn't too bad :)

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments and kudos are always very appreciated<3
> 
> You can find me on...  
> Tumblr: xxawalkinwonderlandxx  
> Twitter: awalknwonderlnd


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